


Close to the heart

by Schist



Category: James Bond (Craig movies)
Genre: M/M, Plotty
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-28
Updated: 2018-06-14
Packaged: 2019-05-14 23:35:35
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 9
Words: 23,400
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14779416
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Schist/pseuds/Schist
Summary: James has to infiltrate evil industrialist Max Zorin's inner circle in the most intimate way in order to find out his plans and take him down. Good thing he has the support of local agent Q.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This is inspired by the old Bond movie "A view to a kill" mostly so I could use Max Zorin, the best and hottest Bond villain ever. I've kept the basic plot but changed it to suit my needs and to fit the modern Bond set-up with the Daniel Craig-type Bond, young Q and female M. I hope you'll like it as much as I enjoyed writing it!

The car slides slowly into the water. James thinks he can hear voices from the two men pushing it in, but the sound of water sloshing around the car is starting to obscure them. He struggles with the string tied around his wrists. It’s tied to the door, so he either has to break it or get out of it before the car fills with water. He tries to wriggle his hands loose rather than pull, which would only tighten the knots even further. The car starts to float as the bottom of the lake disappears underneath it. There’s a soft rocking motion as if the car is going to float away across the lake, almost peaceful in a sickening way, and then it starts to sink. Slowly. Water is trickling in somewhere through the floor of the car, but the windows are slightly open and it will soon come rushing in. He resists the urge to pull at his restraints in panic, and keeps wriggling his hands. It hurts his skin but now the car is completely submerged and the water is gushing in. For a short moment he wonders why he’s here, why he ever got himself into this mess, this stupid job, but then he focuses again. Get out. Get out and survive.

The string around his wrists is just a tiny bit elastic. Nothing you would notice as you’re tying someone up, but you notice when you’re trying not to drown and feel it give way just ever so slightly. The skin on his wrists and the base of his thumb stings, then aches, then burns with pain as he tries to slide his hand through. The water is up over the seats now and his trousers are soaked through. Suddenly the string snaps and he falls over, his head under water, when there’s nothing to restrain him anymore. He struggles to get his head above water, coughs and fumbles for the button to open the window closest to him all the way. It doesn’t work, the electrics are out. No surprise. He waits as long as he can, and when the water is almost to the top of the door he takes a deep breath, pushes the door open and swims out. The relief is overwhelming but he is still in danger. They might still be up there on the beach, waiting to see if he got out. Ready to shoot him. He has to stay under water for as long as he can and surface somewhere they can’t see him. He swims away from the car and tries to remember what the lake looked like.

His lungs feel like they’re about to burst and he’s dizzy from lack of oxygen when he finally reaches a steep bank with a tree growing half in and half out of the water. He can see grass growing just above the surface and he comes up to the surface agonizingly slowly. A few quick breaths, a look around and then down again. He stays down for as long as he can and then surfaces even more slowly, trying to stay hidden behind the tree roots. He can see the beach with the tyre tracks and the two goons still standing around, watching. They seem relaxed, smoking and talking to each other. No longer expecting him to escape but bound by duty to stay and watch a while longer. James keeps absolutely still behind the roots, as much of his head as possible still under water and trying to keep from shaking or making any sudden movements. It’s hard, the water is cold and he wants to get out of it.

It’s almost dark by the time they finally leave. He waits for the sound of their car leaving, and then he swims slowly along the shore, away from the beach. It’s hard to move because he’s been cold and wet for so long, and when he finally heaves himself up on the bank he lies there exhausted for a minute before he can bring himself to get to his feet.

“This fucking job” he mumbles and moves around to try and get warm.  He’s hungry and he could kill for a drink. He has to find someplace to go where he can change clothes, eat and rest. He phone is dead but he has his wallet with several fake ID:s and credit cards. A hotel? It will have to be somewhere far from his latest job to make sure no one will recognize him. He sighs and starts walking.

“You were supposed to watch him!” M says, almost shouting but not quite. She’s a master of controlled rage, coolly gazing at him with her face full of displeasure. “Not get yourself drowned! You do know what watch means, 007? Observe? It’s what spies do.”

“Things got out of hand” James mutters and looks at his shoes. He tries to sound genuinely remorseful.

“I noticed. I have to say it takes talent to fuck up a simple surveillance mission this badly.”

He can’t stop himself from grinning, as if she was paying him an actual compliment. She still looks stern and angry, but there’s a hint of humor in her eyes. He loves that about her. On the surface she’s all work and no play, but there’s more underneath. He wants to explore that. Some time.

“I got the information” he points out.

“Yes” she admits reluctantly. “You did, and we already have agents working on it.”

It’s all the praise he’s going to get, but her face softens just slightly.

“I have another mission for you, if you could try not to drown yourself this time” she says and looks at a folder on her desk. It’s been there since he walked in, marked Top Secret. But then they all are. “Have you heard about Max Zorin?”

“Can’t say that I have. What’s he done?”

“He’s a german industrialist, operating mostly out of California. Makes highly advanced computers. At least on the surface. Lately he’s been moving his stocks around and buying up equipment he shouldn’t need to make computers. He’s clearly up to something and we need to know what.”

James nods. M looks at him for a moment as if she’s assessing him. She’s always doing that. He feels a surge of excitement. She’s old enough to be his mother, but she’s nothing like his mother was and he would sleep with her without hesitation if she in any way implied that she wanted to. So far she hasn’t, but who knows?

“You will contact agent Q at our California station in San Francisco” she says. “You will work together on this. Q knows computers, he can help you understand what’s going on.”

James chuckles at the implication that he needs that kind of help. Of course he does, and he’s always enjoyed working with the local agents.

“When am I leaving?” he asks.

“Tomorrow evening. Get some rest.”

He gets up and smiles at her.

“Maybe I’ll go for a swim” he says and watches her try not to smile before he turns and leaves the room.

  
  


He sleeps on the plane. It’s good to be on his way again and he always finds the roaring sound from the plane engine soothing. He’s had a few drinks and is pleasantly relaxed here before everything begins. He likes being home in his Chelsea flat now and then but it gets old quickly. This is what he does; travels around the world without knowing what’s going to happen. It’s such a stupid way to live, he thinks, but the only one way he knows.

A stewardess wakes him up to serve his in-flight meal. He orders beer with it and eats it while looking out the window. It’s dark but there isn’t really anywhere else to look. He can see the lights on the wing, and the vague shapes of dark clouds. He thinks about the mission. Max Zorin. There was some information about him in the material he got, and a picture. James had expected a middle-aged man, looking the way all business men seem to look: Balding, tired and unhealthy-looking with a too-round body in a too-expensive suit. But Zorin is a young man, in his mid-30s, and in the picture taken on what looks like a yacht somewhere he is beautiful. Tall, slim, healthy-looking with glossy blond hair. He’s leaning against the railing, relaxed and with a friendly smile at the photographer, bright blue water and sky behind him. James looks forward to meeting him. He looks like he might be a challenge.

He arrives in San Francisco confused by the time difference but pleased to be there and takes his pre-booked rental car straight to the hotel. There’s no rush. Tomorrow morning he has a breakfast appointment with agent Q; the rather sillly code name for the local agent. That will be his detailed briefing as well as his mission plan, and until then all he has to do is relax and get himself in a state fit to work. He installs himself at the hotel, then goes for a walk to check out the area. He soon realizes how much he stands out - no one walks here. He goes back to the hotel and spends an hour in their gym and pool, then steam bath and shower and up to his room again. He tries to decide if he should go out for dinner or order food to his room. Going out can be fun, but it can also be lonely, depending on where he goes and who he meets, or doesn’t meet, there. Finally he decides to stay in his room and make an early night of it.

Agent Q looks like he’s 15. James looks at him with scepticism when they sit down together in a restaurant a few blocks from the hotel. There’s already coffee, what looks like smoothies and some healthy-looking granola on the table.

“Really?” he says. “MI6 employs children now?”

Q is visibly annoyed by this, and James takes great pleasure in it.

“Nice to meet you too 007” Q says with an unmistakable british accent. Not that it matters; the restaurant is full of tourists and two Brits won’t stand out. “I can assure you my qualifications are perfectly adequate for the mission at hand.”

“Well at least you know many big words.”

The annoyed wrinkle between Q:s eyebrows deepens slightly. James tries to hold back a smile. He’s cute, in a boyish kind of way. Tall and skinny with a mess of dark hair and hideously old-fashioned clothes. He’s pale, which is quite a give-away in this climate. Clearly he spends very little time outside. Too skinny to be any good in a fight, but he is carrying a small gun strapped to his side under his hideous shirt. Not much use on the field, James concludes. A source of information, perhaps a nice fuck, nothing else.

“So” James says briskly and drinks his coffee, ignoring the bright green smoothie. “Max Zorin.”

“Right” Q says and sounds reluctant, like he’s not ready to leave their almost-argument behind and get to work. James enjoys that too. “He’s definitely up to something. He has factories and offices all over Europe but not a single building in California. That in itself is suspicious.”

“Oh?”

“Since California is not only the IT headquarters of the US but also one of the largest gatherings of tech companies in the world, especially here in San Francisco, you would expect such a large actor on the market to be represented here. Zorin is a pioneer in the….” Q launches into a monologue so full of computer geek language James doesn’t even bother to interrupt him to say he doesn’t understand. Let the boy waste his breath if he wants to. When he finally stops talking James looks at him with a smile.

“And in English?”

Q sighs with frustration.

“Computers are not the future anymore” he whines. “You have to know these things. Computers are a part of life now. You can’t live without them, not even pretend to.”

“I know. That’s why we employ people like you to do the boring bits and then translate it to English.”

Q sighs again and rolls his eyes. What a temper, James thinks. He won’t last long in this business if he can’t control himself better than that. Not much respect for his superiors either, however that’s not necessarily a bad thing.

“Okay, I’ll try again and this time try to pay attention.”

“I always do” James says and makes a show of watching a pretty woman across the room to see if he can rile up Q even further. He can see Q draw breath to comment, and then decide against it before commencing on a patient and dumbed-down description of Zorin Enterprises. Perhaps he isn’t such a hothead after all.

“All right” James says when Q finally wraps up. “So how do I find out what he’s up to?”

“I’ve intercepted some emails about a possible deal going down soon” Q says and now he seems to have forgotten all about his previous irritation. James recognizes the feeling, when the case becomes everything, and all else fades away. “I couldn’t get enough to know what it’s about, but he’s meeting some people at a computer fair here next week. They’ve scheduled a closed seminar, supposedly about AI protocols, but I think it’s a cover. We need to get you in there so you can find out what they’re up to.”

“Wouldn’t it be better to get you in there?” James says. “I won’t understand a word they’re saying.”

Q looks uncomfortable.

“I’m not much of a field agent. Not at all, actually.”

“You’re here.”

“Yes, but it’s more of an office assignment really. I do all my work through computers, not on the field.”

James catches his eye, and sees fear. As competent as Q might be he is terrified to walk into a room with potential bad guys and put himself in danger. James feels a hint of tenderness for him.

“Don’t worry, I’ll do it” he says. “But we have to work out how. Can I be someone’s bodyguard? And listen in rather than participate?”

“That’s a good idea. I’ll get right on it.” He takes a laptop computer out of his bag and puts it on the table. It’s covered with stickers, emphasizing his boyish impression. He starts it up and starts clicking and typing, seemingly unaware that James is still there.

“You really meant right away” James says.

“Mmm” Q mumbles absent-mindedly, then looks up. “Oh. Yes, we’re done. That’ll be all. I’ll contact you when I have more details.” He looks down at his screen again.

“What am I supposed to do until then?”

“Oh, I hear you’re quite resourceful” Q says. “I’m sure you can entertain yourself. But if you get bored you could go snoop around Zorin’s house.”

He writes down an address on a post-it-note and hands it to James without looking up from the screen.

“I hear he’s got a pretty girlfriend” he says. “That might be up your alley.”

Cheeky bastard, James thinks. But he takes the note and leaves Q with the bill.

  
  
  


 


	2. Chapter 2

He spends the morning in the hotel gym and then drives his rental car to the beach for a swim. The water is cold but refreshing and the beach is nearly empty except for the occasional jogger or dog walker. He looks at a pretty girl walking her dog along the beach and considers talking to her, but decides against it. There’s something very pleasant about sitting on the beach, cool and tired after his swim, watching how the wind plays with her dress and makes it dance around her legs. 

He drives back to the hotel for an early lunch and a change of clothes - well dressed but casual - and then takes the car up into the hills in search of Zorin’s house. It looks like they all do; overdimensioned and tastelessly rich, a large bungalow sprawled over cliffs with a lush garden professionally planned to look a little wild wrapped around a giant swimming pool. The sun is glinting on the clean water and polished tiles. There’s a big garage off the side of the driveway, and James wonders what Zorin drives. He’s young and rich so he probably drives some vulgar sports car. Something modern and fast and ugly. It’s tempting to break into the garage for a look, but it’s not worth the risk. 

He circles around the property, first by car and then he parks a mile or so away and gets out on foot. There’s no sign of anyone, neither inhabitants nor guards or dogs, but there are most certainly security cameras. He gets up on a cliff nearby and takes out a pair of field binoculars to look closer. The cameras seem to focus on the entrances and the garage. Zorin is no celebrity outside the IT and business worlds, so he has little reason to be paranoid, and it seems perfectly possible to climb the fence in the more remote parts of the garden. 

James stops on top of the fence and looks again for dogs, guards, more cameras or whatever else might be noting his arrival, but the garden lays there quiet and still like someone’s carefully arranged impression of paradise. He jumps down from the fence and stops again, ready to run or fight if necessary. Still nothing. He moves slowly through the trees and bushes, the smell of flowers rich around him, up to the pool. Double glass doors are open from the swimming pool area into the house and he stops and listens before slipping inside. The interior of the house is much like the exterior; spacious, well-kept and luxurious. He sneaks around for a while but finds nothing of interest. It’s just a house. And if Zorin keeps any personal effects other than a few books, magazines and clothes he doesn’t keep them here. Perhaps he has other houses. There’s an office set up with several computers but James can’t get into them and there’s nothing interesting on paper. 

On his way out he stops in a passage outside the bedrooms and looks at a series of photographs of horses. Some are of horses running in a race, others are of sweaty and stressed-out-looking horses from winner’s circles with wreaths around their necks but there are a few close ups of a horse’s head with a field in the background. No halter or headpiece, just the horse looking at the photographer. They look like the kind of pictures you put on your wall if you care deeply about the animal rather than wanting to brag about its victories or showing off their aesthetic potential. So there is something personal here after all. Perhaps even a weak spot? There are no signs of animals or riding clothes here, so if Zorin keeps horses they must be somewhere else. 

As he reaches the glass doors to the patio and pool he sees a woman out there. She shrugs a silky-looking robe off onto a sunchair as if she just came outside for a swim or some sunbathing. She’s dressed in a bikini and she’s young and beautiful.

“Too bad I forgot my swim trunks” James says, and she freezes just as she’s about to dive into the water and looks at him. 

“Who are you?” she asks.”

She seems more curious than scared or offended. 

“I was looking for Zorin.”

Her eyes go a shade darker. 

“Oh” she says. “Of course you are. Max isn’t home. He’s riding.”

“Where?”

“A ranch somewhere on the other side of the valley, I don’t remember where. He took me once, but I don’t like horses.”

James nods. The woman looks at him.

“Did you come to talk to Max about horses?” she asks.

“Yes” James lies, grateful for the cover provided. He wonders about her lack of concern. She doesn’t seem to have any reason to fear an intruder. Or perhaps she doesn’t care? 

“He’s throwing a party tonight” she says. “You could come?”

“I’d love to. Are you his girlfriend?”

“Yes” she says but there’s no warmth or pride in her voice. Another weak spot? Lovers quarrel? “It starts at eight, wear a dark suit. Bring a date if you like. Now, if you’ll excuse me…”

She dives into the water and he watches her flawless body break the surface and slide through the water for a second or two before she starts to swim. Then he goes back to the part of the fence where he came in, and climbs out. Now all he has to do is get Q to change his cover and get ready for the party. 

  
  


“You what?”

“I’m going to a party at Zorin’s house tonight” James repeats on the phone. “I need you to change my cover.”

“To what?” Q asks. 

“Some sort of horse person. Someone with money. Zorin loves horses.”

“ _ You _ know horses?” Q sounds surprised. 

“I know enough to fake it, which is more than I can say about computers.”

“Fine. But how do I get you into that meeting at the tech fair?”

“I can be an investor in IT tech  _ and  _ a horse freak, can’t I?”

“I guess so” Q says. “So we scrap the bodyguard idea. No problem, I can throw something together. But we should meet before you leave tonight and go over the details.”

“Fine. Come to my hotel room.”   
  


Q gets out of the taxi outside of Bond’s hotel. He has no car despite living here for years now. He hates driving in San Francisco. Public transport is better than in most US cities and he has a generous taxi budget to cover the rest. He pays for the taxi with his company card, hangs his computer bag over his shoulder and steps inside the hotel. He can’t help feeling a bit nervous. The breakfast meeting with Bond that same morning went well enough, but field agents make him anxious. All that throwing themselves into the path of danger, hard fists and harder faces, shoulder holsters and a licence to kill… he doesn’t know how to handle people like that. People who choose that. 

He steps into the elevator, feeling slightly uncomfortable by the air of luxury all around him. He likes normal things, things that feel honest and real. Like his little office and his computer and his apartment. All these fancy people in fancy clothes eating fancy food in fancy places just makes him feel annoyed and confused. What’s it all about? Do they truly enjoy it all or is it just a big show? He suspects it is, but can’t figure out what the show is about. 

He knocks on Bond’s door. Bond opens, already dressed in a tuxedo. It fits him as if it was made for him and despite his hard face and big muscled body it looks natural on him. As if it’s something he could wear every day. He’s well shaved and smells of expensive after-shave and he smiles at Q like a host welcoming a guest. Q feels like they might as well be from different planets, they’re that different. He’s never even worn a tuxedo. He had to buy a suit for his sister’s wedding. 

He reminds himself he’s here to work. The surreal surroundings or how good Bond looks in a tux doesn’t matter at all. 

“Come in” Bond says and walks into the room. “Have you eaten? I ordered room service.”

“I’ll get something later” Q says. 

“Nonsense. Help yourself.”

He indicates a table in the middle of the room laden with cold meats and bowls of steaming, vegetables. It smells heavenly. An empty cocktail glass is sitting on the table and next to it is a whiskey glass and a small bottle, half empty. Q has been warned about Bond’s drinking. And his womanizing. And his excessive risk-taking. 

Just a job, he reminds himself. Get to it and then you can go home. 

He sits down at the table and helps himself to some food. 

“I’ve set you up as John Baker, IT investor and hobby horse breeder” he says. “I’ve got an ID card for you, and your ticket for the computer fair. You’re on the guest list for Zorin’s meeting.”

“Great. Run through the information while we eat. Want a drink?”

“No thanks.”

Bond pours himself some whiskey and eats while Q recites the invented back story of John Baker. He worries that Bond won’t be able remember all of this, he doesn’t seem to be paying much attention and the alcohol certainly won’t make it easier. But when Bond turns his focus on Q for a moment to ask questions and gather up any loose threads he’s suddenly laser sharp. Q feels a little short of breath and remembers what his department head told him during the mission brief, apart from warning him about Bond’s various vices.  _ Bond is a loose cannon, but he’s very very good. He would never have survived this long if he wasn’t _ . Q looks at Bond, thinks about what he might have survived during the years, and feels a chill down his spine.    
  
When they’re finished Q wants to leave but Bond starts to talk about other things. 

“Do you have a girlfriend?” he asks, leaned back on the sofa with the glass in his hand. 

“No” Q says. “Not… my cup of tea, so to speak.”

“Ah” Bond says and nods, looking satisfied. “I thought so. Boyfriend?”

“Not at the moment. I have two cats.”

The look of pity Bond gives him makes him curl his toes. 

“There’s no need for that” he mutters. “I’m married to my job I guess you could say.”

Bond laughs. Something tickles in the pit of Q’s stomach. The way Bond looks in his suit is having an intoxicating effect on him. 

“I’ve heard that before” Bond says. “Fair enough. I guess you could say the same for me. It’s hard to have a normal relationship in this job.”

Bond looks at his watch (expensive, looks like he could remote control a spaceship with it) and gets up. 

“I should get going” he says. 

“Right. Of course.”

Q gets up too and suddenly they’re very close, standing between the sofa and the coffee table. Bond meets his eyes and smiles. It seems to go on for a long time, and Q can’t really breathe. He makes a feeble gesture to collect his computer but at the same time Bond moves towards him and they’re bodies touch. Despite being fully dressed it feels like receiving an electric shock. Q straightens up, the computer still sitting on the table, and Bond kisses him on the mouth. It’s completely overwhelming, like being knocked off your feet by a big wave when you’re at the beach. Q’s body responds immediately and he returns the kiss without thinking. He can’t think. The kiss seems to go on forever and it’s wonderful, a force of nature, sweet bliss with breathtaking intensity. Suddenly Bond’s reputation as a womanizer makes perfect sense. Who could resist this? Except it appears it’s not just women. 

Bond pulls away and smiles at him.

“I’m sorry, I couldn’t help myself” he says. “You’re beautiful. I’ve been wanting to do that since you walked in.”

Q can’t speak, he just nods. Bond comes closer to kiss him again, and Q helplessly accepts him. It’s wonderful and frightening at the same time. 

Finally Bond pulls away again.

“I wish I could stay here with you tonight, but I’m afraid duty calls” he ways, his voice breathy and slightly hoarse. It’s incredibly sexy. Q nods but doesn’t do anything. 

“You should take your computer” Bond says. “Unless you want to wait for me here, but I might be very late.”

“Oh… of course” Q stammers and hurries to tuck his computer back into his bag. 

He hangs the bag over his shoulder and walks out the door. His brain is still barely functioning. What just happened? Bond steps out into the corridor after him and they go to the elevator in silence, Q struggling for something to say but coming up short. He tries to run through his training for any way to deal with this situation, but he comes up empty there too except for some rule against relationships between agents. This is no relationship. 

In the elevator Bond kisses him again, and this time he can feel the hard bulge in the other man’s trousers. It feels both reassuring and maddeningly exciting. When the door opens to the lobby and they let go there’s a healthy flush to Bond’s face as well as a happy smile. Q feels like he’s going to melt, or explode. Or both. He decides he’s going to go home and masturbate. But when he’s in a taxi heading home and the acute arousal starts to fade he just feels uncomfortable. Violated. What the hell was that? Who gave him the right? 


	3. Chapter 3

James arrives at the house in style, driving his rental car up to the valet and earning more than a few looks when he gets out and walks up to the house. The doors are open and two well dressed goons are posted at the entrance. They’re looking suspiciously at everyone who arrives, and one of them is checking people off against a guest list. James quickly looks around for other guards, dogs, surveillance and possible exits. It’s such a natural part of the job he doesn’t even think about it. The goon checks him against the list, smiles and welcomes him inside. 

Despite the security it’s a fairly small party. James estimates less than a hundred guests. He looks around for Zorin but doesn’t see him so he orders a drink at the bar in the living room (vodka martini, shaken not stirred) and then walks around checking out the crowd. He gets a few curious looks from both men and women and stops to chat with a few of the guests to establish who he is while looking around discreetly. After about an hour there’s an excited murmur in the crowd and then it parts to let Max Zorin and his girlfriend through. They look like a jet set dream, both of them young, fit and beautiful in gorgeous clothes. James can’t decide which of them he desires most. Zorin smiles and raises his hands to demand attention. The crowd falls silent. 

“Welcome to my humble abode!” he says and draws laughter. “I’m glad you all could make it. Help yourselves to drinks and food, and have a good evening!”

He smiles but his eyes are cold, and there’s something tense about how the crowd reacts. A heightening of the energy in the room, as if they’re not sure of the terms or what will happen. James watches Zorin closely as he accepts a drink from one of the staff. He has a certain charm and he greets people with a wide smile, but as soon as no one is directly addressing him the smile dies and James doesn’t think he’s enjoying this at all. He’s throwing this party because he wants something, not because he wants to.

James mingles, drinks, talks and listens. He talks to a young woman who runs a start-up company and hopes to do business with Zorin, and a man who is already working with Zorin and drunkenly hints at something big going down soon. At James’s insinuations that he too is in the business and looking for opportunities the man leans close and says 

“You want to be in on this. We’re all going to be very very rich.”

“I’m attending the AI seminar at the tech fair on Friday” James says. “I’m under the impression it might lead to some lucrative discussions?”

The man gets excited.

“Oh good! Very good. Yes. Forget about AI, this is bigger. Much bigger.”

“I’m looking forward to it. And I must talk to Zorin tonight, I’d love to find out more.”

The man’s excited smile fades and he looks pale. 

“Oh, there’s no need to mention our little conversation to him. Better to just show up at the seminar and get all your facts there.”

“Oh” James says. “Of course. I guess I can wait.”

The man looks pathetically grateful.

“He doesn’t like too much talk in advance” he confides. “He has a bit of a temper… might be good to know.”

“Of course. Thank you.”

The man leaves to get another drink, and James stays behind and thinks about what he’s heard. It only makes him more curious about Zorin. 

Zorin  himself is proving elusive, almost constantly surrounded by people vying for his attention. James manages to introduce himself and make small talk at one point before they’re interrupted, and later James turns to find Zorin staring at him, but before James has a chance to approach him again someone else beats him to it. 

His girlfriend is another story. James eventually manages to get her to himself. He chats her up at the bar while Zorin is busy talking to men with important postures and insecure smiles. 

“Hello again” he says and smiles. 

She looks pleased to see him.

“I was hoping you would show up.”

“Were you?”

He gets her a drink and exchange flirty pleasantries. When Zorin leaves for the evening - the party is still in full swing but apparently he has places to be - she stays behind. It doesn’t take long to persuade her to come to his hotel room. They leave quietly through a back door in the kitchen that leads down some stairs and into the garage. From there it’s a small matter to get one of the guards to fetch James’s car. 

“He seems to like you” James says and nods towards the guard who is just disappearing out the door. 

“He’s nice. Most of them are. I don’t sleep with them, but they’re here a lot and we talk.”

 

Her name is Sandie and she came to California to be an actress. 

“And now?” James asks as they walk into his hotel room. He kisses her on the neck while his hands search her dress for a zipper. 

“I guess I work as Max’s girlfriend” she says with a giggle. 

“You consider it a job?”

“I don’t know. In a way. He doesn’t love me.”

That could be either good or bad. James is hoping she can give him inside information on Zorin. 

“Do you love him?” he asks and lets her dress slide to the floor. He starts unbuttoning his shirt. 

“No, I don’t think so. I like him, in a way. He’s very clever, and sometimes he’s funny. He keeps to himself a lot, but occasionally he wants to talk. But it’s more of a business arrangement.”

“What does he talk about?”

She looks at him, amused. 

“Well, not his secret business if that’s what you think” she says. “There’s no use trying to get information out of me, I don’t know anything.”

James grins, aware he’s been caught and not afraid to show it. 

“So, no pillow talk?”

He moves his hand from her breasts to between her legs, very gently touching her and making her gasp. 

“Oh we don’t have sex. He likes men” she says and then she moans and closes her eyes. They move over to the bed. James thinks about what she said while he makes her ready. He should have seduced Zorin himself instead. Well, there’s time for that too. 

He abandons all thoughts on work and gets busy.  

 

The next day he has nothing to do, so he spends the morning with Sandie. They have sex and then go out to eat brunch and take a walk on the beach. He finds he likes her company. 

“Will Zorin get jealous if he finds out we’re doing this?” he asks. 

“I don’t know. Probably not. Why are you so interested in him?”

“I told you. I’m an investor, I want to know what he’s up to.”

“Why don’t you just ask him?”

“He doesn’t seem like the kind of person to spill his secrets the moment you meet him” James says. 

“So get to know him. He’s… a bit odd, but he can be nice. You should go out to his ranch, see his horses. He’s more relaxed there.”

“Why are you helping me?” James asks. 

She shrugs. 

“You’re really good in bed” she says and laughs. “I’ll tell you anything you want if you do that thing again with your tongue.”

He laughs too.

“I promise. Why do you stay with him?”

“I don’t know. I guess I don’t have a good enough reason not to. I told you, he’s nice to me. He supports me, very generously. All I have to do in return is keep him company whenever he wants, and go with him to parties. I think he likes to think he’s fooling everyone. That we’re a couple and in love, but I don’t think he loves anyone. Except his horses, and his work.”

They go back to the hotel and he does the thing with his tongue. After a shower and a coffee she has to leave, but writes down the address for Zorin’s ranch, and her phone number. 

“I hope I’ll see you again” she says with a smile before she goes. 

He smiles back. Better not see her again. She’s the kind of nice, easy-going girl he could fall in love with, and he’d better not. 

 

He calls Q to update him on developments but Q sounds cold and angry. He doesn’t say why, but it’s obvious that he’s upset and James remembers their kiss before the party. Was Q expecting more? Is he angry because James slept with Sandie instead? He sighs and decides he doesn’t care. They’re here on a job and if Q wants to get emotional about a kiss that’s his problem. Then he changes his mind. Q is cute, and pretty. He’d like to sleep with him before he goes home, and he doesn’t want a fight with a local agent to complicate the job. 

“I’m going out to Zorin’s ranch this afternoon” he says. “How about we have dinner afterwards?”

“I’m busy” Q says. 

“Yes, with me. I’m your job. Meet me at my hotel at 8 o’ clock and we’ll find somewhere nice to eat and discuss whatever I find out at the ranch.”

“Fine. Whatever.”

  
  


The ranch is beautiful. James expects a big and unnecessarily luxurious place, hollywood-like as Zorin’s hilltop house, but it’s fairly small and looks like an older farm rebuilt to specialize in horses. Big pastures with wooden fences line the road up to the ranch, which consists of a smallish farmhouse in different shades of unpainted wood, two barns or stables in the same style and a few smaller outhouses. It all looks practical in an expensive but tasteful kind of way, and James can easily believe Sandie’s claim that Zorin is more relaxed here. He parks his car off the driveway and gets out only to be approached by a guard. James can tell he carries a gun under his jacket. 

“Excuse me, sir” the guard says. “Who are you?”

“Good afternoon” James says, putting on his most jolly smile and exaggerating his accent. “I’m John Baker, investor at Technobabble Ltd. I was at Mr Zorin’s party yesterday.”

The guard looks at him without revealing if the lie is working. 

“Have you an appointment with Mr Zorin?” he asks. 

“I’m afraid I don’t have the pleasure. I saw these wonderful photographs of his horses at the party and since I was in the neighborhood I couldn’t help stopping by. What an amazing property! What incredible animals!”

He gestures at the pastures. He’s laying it on thick, hoping the american guard will fall for the quaint and harmless English gentleman stereotype. 

“I’ll ask Mr Zorin if he’ll see you” the guard says finally. “I must ask you to remain here for a moment.”

“Of course. I’ll admire the horses while I wait. I dabble in thoroughbred breeding a bit at home, you see…”

He keeps babbling while the guard turns and walks away, and doesn’t stop his loud marvelling over the horses until he’s out of earshot. He waits, wondering what he will say to Zorin if he’s allowed in. He’s not a particularly good actor. Under-cover work has been kept to a minimum during his career so far and he prefers it that way. He can fool a security guard in a stretch, but will he be able to hide his identity from Zorin? Perhaps it was stupid to come here before the big meeting. If his cover is blown he will have lost his chance to find out what’s going on. 

The guard returns in a few minutes. 

“Mr Zorin will see you in the stable” he says. “He’s about to go for a ride and wonders if you will join him.”

“Of course! What a pleasure!”

James follows him into one of the two stables. Whether this is a good idea or not doesn’t matter now, it’s too late to pull out. A beautiful dark brown horse is tied in the aisle and Max Zorin is standing next to it fastening the saddle. He looks up when he sees James and seems to scrutinize him. 

“Mr Baker” he says with a pale smile. “What an unexpected pleasure.”

James feels a hint of fear when he meets Zorin’s eyes. He looks like he knows more than he says. Has James’s cover been blown already? He launches into his speech again about how amazing the horses are, and is relieved to see Zorin’s face soften a little. Horses are indeed a weak spot for him. He turns towards his horse again and strokes its neck. It’s surprisingly tender; a gesture of love. Then he looks at James again. He’s tall, and younger than James. His blond hair is combed back and his eyes are pale blue with a guarded look to them. He looks past James to a stable employee, a woman who looks about James’s age, and asks her to saddle one of the horses for James. 

“You are coming to the AI seminar?” Zorin asks while they wait. 

“Yes! Can’t wait.”

James gives him a knowing smile. Zorin smiles back but James can’t interpret it. Again he gets the feeling that Zorin knows and is just playing along. But how could he? Has he had time to check his cover already? Perhaps Q isn’t as good as he thinks he is.

“You won’t regret it” Zorin says. “It will blow your mind.”

He laughs, but gives no clue to why that is funny. The stable hand finishes saddling a large chestnut and hands the reins to James as well as a helmet. He puts it on and adjusts it. Zorin puts one on too and they lead their horses outside. 

It’s a beautiful place for a ride. James follows Zorin away from the ranch and soon they leave the plain and head into mountains. It would be a lovely day, but James is anxious. He wants to know what Zorin knows about him and why he invited him along. 

“I saw you at the party yesterday” Zorin says finally after they’ve ridden for a while on a narrow track and come up onto a plateau where they can ride side by side. 

“Good party” James answers. 

“Who invited you? I’ve never seen you before.”

“Sandie.”

“Ah.”

He seems strangely content with that and doesn’t ask where he knows Sandie. 

“She’s nice” James says, testing the waters. 

Zorin looks at him, surprised. 

“Yes” he says and looks like it just occurred to him. “Yes, she is. She means a lot to me.”

It’s an unusual display of genuine emotion and James feels himself warm to the man. 

“Do you have someone special in your life?” Zorin asks, and it’s James’s turn to be surprised by the sudden personal twist of the conversation. 

“I’m afraid not” he says and his mind jumps back to the previous evening in his hotel room with Q. He feels pathetic, that a question like that should cause an association to a fleeting kiss with a colleague he doesn’t know. “I was married once” he adds. “But she died.”

Zorin looks horrified. 

“I’m sorry” he says. “And even more so for making you think about it.”

“It’s fine.”

“Of course it isn’t. Let me take your mind off it. I’ll race you to the hill over there.”

He points, and before James has time to agree or not he sets his horse to gallop and off they go. 

It’s fun. James has never been a big fan of horses, but he has ridden quite a lot and this is fun. Not as much fun as driving a fast car, but it’s up there in the same category. He leans forward, tries to stay close to the horse to improve his seat and decrease air resistance, but Zorin is a lighter and better rider and he wins easily. When they reach the hill and rein in their panting horses they’re both laughing. 

“It worked” James says. 

“I’m glad. Let’s go back to the ranch. Have dinner with me.”

James meets his eyes and tries to figure out the real reason for the invitation. He’s flirting with danger here, danger to himself as well as danger to the mission. He should politely decline, or at least meet up with Q first, exchange information and maybe wear a wire and tracker. But the same thing goes through his head - and body - as every time he meets an attractive person and sees interest in their eyes: Lust. He wants Zorin and caution doesn’t even need to be thrown on the wind. It was never there. 

“I’d love to” James says and turns his horse back towards the ranch. 

  
  



	4. Chapter 4

He goes back to the hotel to change before dinner, and that’s when he remembers Q. He looks at his watch. It’s almost seven and he has arranged to meet Zorin in an hour. The same time he is supposed to have dinner with Q. Well, Q will have to wait. James feels a stab of guilt and regret but there is nothing to do. Zorin is the job, and he takes precedence. He texts Q. 

“Got a lead, must follow up. Call you tomorrow instead for briefing. /007”

He sends it and then returns to his business of getting ready for the night. He hesitates for a while before attaching his shoulder holster and his gun and then takes it off again. If things get physical, and he sure doesn’t mind if they do, it might be hard to explain why a computer investor is carrying a gun. He toys with the idea of hiding a knife somewhere, but again decides against it. He calls Q.

“007?” Q answers and sounds normal this time. Professional. “Everything all right?”

“Yes, just wondering if you’ve got any gadgets lying around.”

“Gadgets?”

“Yes. Like we used to have in the old days. Exploding pens, watches that shoot laser, things like that.”

“What exactly is your lead tonight?” Q asks and sounds amused. 

“Dinner with Zorin. I don’t want to go armed, in case he finds out. I’m supposed to be a business man, and he’s… careful.”

“Dinner?”

“Yes.”

“What, not the two of you?”

“Yes, as far as I know.”

“How on Earth did you manage that?”

“I think he likes me.”

Q sighs. 

“Of course he does. Just don’t blow your cover. Well… I do have one of those watches, it’s got a tracker and it can shoot, but I’m not sure if it still works. Like I said, I’m not much of a field man.”

“Where are you? I’ll come by and get it.”

“I’m on my way downtown anyway, I’ll meet you. Where are you heading?”

“The Gallery restaurant. You know where it is?”

“Of course. Fancy place. I’ve never been but I’m sure it’s nice.”

“I hope I didn’t ruin your evening..” James says and only half pretends to be apologetic.

“On the contrary. I had a game night scheduled that I had to cancel for you. It was a pleasure to uncancel it.”

“What’s a game night? Gambling?”

“Don’t bother, 007. I’ll meet you in half an hour.”

 

They meet in a park several blocks from the restaurant. Q is wearing those clothes of his that look like they’re from a thrift shop yet somehow he looks great. James feels overdressed and uncomfortable, as if he’s about to meet a secret lover behind dark bushes in the park rather than meet a colleague for work. The temptation to take Q’s beautiful face in his hands and kiss him is almost overwhelming and James feels himself get hard. 

“I tested the watch” Q says sheepishly. “It works. Blew a bloody hole through my kitchen wall!”

“You shot your kitchen wall?”

“What else was I supposed to do? I can’t send you out on a live mission with equipment that hasn’t been tested!” 

“Bill the MI6. If they give you any trouble, let me know.”

Q looks like he’s about to say something, but changes his mind. He helps James put the watch on and explains how it works. James has to make an effort to listen since Q:s fingers linger on his wrist a little longer than necessary.

“Thanks” James says and notices how close they are standing. The lovers in the park association grows even stronger. 

“Be careful” Q says. “That man is dangerous.”

James meets his eyes, they’re standing so close and he can’t help himself. Q smells wonderful and now he knows how soft that unruly hair is. 

“I want to kiss you” he says. 

“Bond, this is highly unprofessional” Q says, but his voice sounds weak, and James can hear him breathing faster. 

“May I kiss you?”

Q swallows hard. 

“You didn’t ask last time.”

“I’m sorry. I’m asking now.”

Q nods, and James kisses him. It’s wonderful. He wants to fuck him right here and right now, but there’s no time. He lets go and takes a deep breath to steady himself. 

“Shit” he mutters and looks down to see if his hard-on is visible. It is if you’re looking. He tries to smooth his jacket over it but it’s not long enough. Q laughs. 

“You’ll need to stop doing that when you can’t follow through” he says. 

“I guess so” James says with a silly grin. “I’ll see you tomorrow.”

“Be careful.”

James ignores him and walks off towards the restaurant. He considers going into the toilet to jerk off but decides a walk in the cool night air will do the trick. Thinking about Zorin does not help, so instead he thinks about his likelihood of getting killed tonight. That helps. 

 

Zorin isn’t there when he arrives, but the waiter has their table ready and serves him a drink while he waits. Zorin shows up just a few minutes later. A large man in a suit no doubt hiding a gun or two posts himself just inside the door. Zorin himself is impeccably dressed in a suit that looks new and expensive and like it was made for him. It hugs his tall slim body in just the right way. His hair looks recently washed and shines like gold. James’s breath catches in his throat for a moment, and then he smiles. Zorin smiles too, not his cold pretend smile but not quite a real one either. Somewhere in between. James gets up to shake his hand and it feels strangely formal though they saw each other less than two hours ago. 

They order and then they sit and look at each other. James realizes he has no idea what to expect of this evening. Does Zorin want to pick his brains, blow his cover, get his money, or is it simply a date? It could be either one from how he is behaving. It’s an exciting feeling and one reason why he loves this job. It can go either way, and here he sits with a watch that can shoot a hole in the wall. He has to stop himself from laughing, but Zorin notices and offers another thin smile. 

“So, Mr Baker” he says finally, and then suddenly launches into a long train of questions regarding James’s profession, investments and business interests. James struggles to play the role of the slightly confused but very rich businessman who knows little about computer technology but more about money. He’s not sure he’s doing a very good job but he can’t read Zorin well enough to know if it’s working. Finally he decides that a counter-attack might be his only hope to keep his cover. 

“What’s with all these questions, Max?” he asks. “May I call you Max? You Americans are so informal, aren’t you.”

“Actually, I’m German.”

“I know you are. Well, have I given you any reason to doubt my intentions? Or do you give all your potential investors this treatment?”

He gestures to include the restaurant and the intimate setting as well as the questioning.

“I don’t know… John” Zorin says. “I don’t know you at all, do I? You show up out of nowhere and get yourself admitted to my seminar as well as my private party. Sure, you have a presence online, I’ve looked into you and you check out, but what I’m planning is big. Really big. I need to know if you can be trusted. Last week I hadn’t even heard of you.”

His eyes are hard and cold, drilling themselves into James. 

“Your loss, surely”.

Zorin laughs. 

“I agree” he says.

“Who do you think I am?” James says and decides to go all out. “An industrial spy? You think I’m going to steal your little secrets and run off to someone else?”

Zorin looks uncomfortable but shrugs. 

“Why not?”

“I’ve heard so much now about how big and important and lucrative your project is, but I know nothing about it. How about you start sharing some information, or I might decide that  _ you _ can’t be trusted? Perhaps  _ you’re _ the spy, or you’re just full of shit? Big talk and nothing to back it up?”

Zorin’s face goes red and he looks furious. This is it, James thinks and hardly dares breathe. He’s either going to kill me or swallow the bait. Just then their food arrives. They ignore it best they can and stare at each other, the challenge hanging in the air. Then Zorin relaxes. Smiles. He turns his charm on like flicking a switch, and James can breathe again. 

“I like you” Zorin says. “And I’m going to tell you, but not here. Too many ears.”

“Where?”

“Let’s eat, the food here is amazing. Then we can go for drinks at my yacht.”

Another smile, almost coy now. He’s flirting, James realizes. I’m in. 

They eat and talk about horses, and then about Europe. Zorin was born in Germany but went to college in the US and has lived and travelled all over the world. The food really is good and the atmosphere is friendly. James gently probes him about his upbringing in Germany, his family, but gets nothing but cool dismissal. Typical psychopath, he thinks. No relationships to speak of, apart from Sandie who is basically an employee. 

 

After dinner - the bill is somehow magically taken care of, probably by invoice to Zorin Industries - they are picked up by a beautiful black car and driven to a heavily guarded private harbor. There are cameras everywhere. For someone who has lived most of his life as a spy slipping under the radar it’s hard to get used to the idea of living under guard. He wonders who Zorin is afraid of. Who would want to kill a computer entrepreneur? Perhaps more than one might think; Zorin is undoubtedly rich and influential. 

The yacht is gorgeous. Not too big, not too gaudy but unquestionably expensive. There are no guards inside, or if they are they’re good at staying out of sight. But James guesses they stay on the dock. There’s a peaceful, private feel to the interior of the boat, and Zorin seems to relax when he steps inside. 

“Do you want a drink?” Zorin asks casually as James follows him inside what looks like a lounge or small living room. 

“Sure. Vodka Martini. Shaken, not stirred.”

Zorin laughs. 

“Sorry” he says. “My staff is off duty, we’re on our own. You can have what comes out of a bottle.”

“Whiskey then.”

Zorin pours them each a glass and hands one to James. Their hands brush against each other and the sexual tension that has been there the whole time flares up. They stand facing each other on the soft carpet, sipping their drinks and looking at each other. The air seems to stand still, the interior of the boat is quiet and from outside all they can hear is the soft sound of water against the sides of the boat. James considers the risk he’s taking and knows he should get out of here. Sleeping with someone under investigation - whether they’re the bad guy or not - is the dumbest thing he can do. But he also knows he isn’t going to leave, at least not yet. He’s going to sleep with Zorin, and Zorin knows it too. There’s not a trace of insecurity on Zorin’s face, only lust and the certainty that when he wants to he can be irresistable. James knows that feeling very well. 

“Are you waiting for me to kiss you?” he says. 

Zorin smiles. 

“Yes.”

He swallows, then a small gasp as desire is starting to crack his air of perfect control. James smiles too, puts his drink down, takes the tiny step that separates them and kisses him. He didn’t know what he expected, but Zorin melts in his hands. He puts his drink down, misses the edge of the table and the glass tumbles to the floor and spills on the carpet. He doesn’t seem to notice. James runs his hands over Zorin’s shoulders and back, and Zorin hands himself over without any resistance. For a man so guarded, so careful and cold the change is remarkable. 

They end up in the bedroom and afterwards they lie on the bed in a hot, blissful glow. James knows he shouldn’t be, but he’s happy. Zorin is stretched out beside him, naked and relaxed and beautiful, his blond hair sweaty around the temples and tangled from James’s hands and rubbing against the bed. His cheeks are rosy and his eyes soft and open. He looks like a completely different person. James looks at him and feels a sudden stab to his heart. It frightens him more than a gun would. Sleeping with the enemy is really stupid, but it’s nothing compared to having feelings for them. The only sensible thing to do now would be to resign from the case and go back to England, forget Zorin ever existed or let him become a fantasy for lonely nights. 

Instead he leans over and kisses him. 

“That was nice” he says. 

Zorin nods. 

“Yes. Very. I want to do it again.”

“We can, if you want to. Just let me catch my breath, I’m not as young as you.”

Zorin laughs.

“I’m 35” he says. “I’m not that young.”

“Are you? I could have sworn you were younger.”

Zorin smiles and traces his fingers over James’s chest. 

“While you catch your breath I’m going to tell you my plans. I’m going to drown Silicon Valley.”

James looks at him. He looks back with a proud, pleased look on his face. 

“What, all of it?” James asks. 

“Yes.”

“In water?”

“Yes.”

“That’s your big plan?”

Zorin puts his hands behind his head. 

“Don’t you see?” he says. “In one stroke it’s going to eliminate practically all competition and plunge the entire American computer industry into chaos. I’ve been investing in my European operations over the last few years. We’re more than ready to take over. If Silicon Valley goes, the whole industry will feel the shock. Stocks will plummet. And I’ll be ready.”

James tries to hide his shock and disgust. The man really is a psychopath. He forces a smile as if he finds the idea appealing. 

“How are you going to do it?”

“I own some mines. A number of well-placed bombs will trigger an earthquake and break the dams and flood the whole valley.”

“And the people in it?”

“We’re doing it on the 4th of July. Nobody will be there. I don’t want to kill anyone, actually I want the best of them to be available to work for me. I just want the facilities gone. The buildings, servers, archives, production lines, head offices… “

“You’ve thought of everything.”

“I have” Zorin grins. “I have a lot of geologists in my pocket, they’re going to make it look like natural causes. It’s a quake prone area as it is. Nobody is going to suspect sabotage.”

“Aren’t the dams built for it? What if they don’t break?”

“Oh, they will. I have people there too. The maintenance work is sloppy even at its best, and I’ve encouraged them to lower their standards. And lend a hand if necessary.”

“So if everything is planned.. What’s the seminar for? Do you need money?”

“Of course. I’ve poured everything I’ve got into my own operations to strengthen and prepare them, as well as paying a fortune for all the bribes and preparations. I’m broke.”

“You think you can persuade people to invest in you if they know what you’re planning?”

“Yes” Zorin says as if that’s a strange question. “You’re an investor, you know what people are willing to do for money.”

He gets a suspicious look on his face and sits up. 

“Are  _ you  _ willing to do it?” he asks. “I’m counting on you to be on my side.”

“And if I’m not?”

They lock eyes. Zorin’s eyes are hard and cold again but also hurt. 

“I’ll have to deal with you” he says with an icy voice.

James laughs. 

“Don’t worry” he says. “Of course I’m in. It’s a brilliant plan!”

Zorin relaxes and James kisses him. They sit close together on the bed and kiss, skin on skin. James moves his hand to Zorin’s sex and feels him getting hard. 

“Besides” he mumbles. “I couldn’t resist you even if I tried.”

He hopes he’s lying but he’s not entirely sure. Zorin has just revealed himself as a psychopath of epic proportions. James should be getting as far away from him as possible, but he is so beautiful and he smells so good and his body is so smooth and hot under his hands and James is so horny. He hates himself for it but he lets his lust get the better of him and lies down with Zorin again.

 

Afterwards Zorin falls asleep but even though James is tired and relaxed and more than satisfied he can’t seem to drift off. He looks at Zorin sleeping peacefully beside him and thinks the best thing he could do now would be to put a bullet in his head. He’s a maniac and despite his assurances that he doesn’t want to kill anyone of course he will. You don’t cause earthquakes and floods and then believe no one will get hurt. One shot is all it would take to end it all before it even begins. James lifts his wrist and aims Q:s watch at Zorin’s temple. He doesn’t have the order to kill but he is authorized to make that decision himself in an emergency. This isn’t an emergency. There’s still time to report back to M, get the order and then take Zorin out. It’s with a feeling of relief that he puts his arm back down onto the bed. He gently nudges Zorin awake. Zorin looks at him with sleepy, half-open eyes. 

“Max” James whispers. “I’ve got to go. I have work in the morning.”

“No, stay.”

“I’m sorry. But call me and we can get together again. You have my card.”

Zorin nods and drifts off again. James pulls the cover up to his neck, a gentle affectionate gesture that frightens him to his core, and then he leaves the bed and puts his clothes on. 

The cool air outside on the dock clears his head, and he’s glad he left. He has to go back to the hotel, get some sleep and try to think clearly about all of this. And under no circumstances let M know how badly he’s about to fuck this up. He nods to the guard standing outside the boat. The guard nods back.  

  
  
  



	5. Chapter 5

They sit in the shade on a sidewalk café near the beach, Q sipping a smoothie and James eating eggs and drinking coffee. It feels surreal to be sitting here on a sunny morning eating breakfast surrounded by tourists after last night. His mind keeps going back to the yacht and Zorin. 

“You slept with him??” Q exclaims after James tells him a shortened version of the night before. “You slept with Max Zorin?” 

“Yes.”

“Do you realize what a risk that is?”

“Q, he told me  _ everything _ . It was the pillow talk of all pillow talks. It was well worth the risk. He trusts me now.”

“I can’t believe you would use sex to extract information” Q says but if in wonder or disgust it’s hard to tell. 

“Why not? It’s very efficient. And fun. You should try.”

Q shakes his head. 

“It’s not my cup of tea.”

“What, sex?”

“No! I like sex, but not… that way.”

“It’s just sex” James says, leans over to give Q a teasing kiss on the cheek and laughs. “But you want _ looove _ …?”

“So what if I do? I’m not a slut like you.”

James laughs and after a moment so does Q. 

“It’s odd what an interest he’s taken in you” Q remarks  “I wonder what he’s after.”

“What, my looks and charm isn’t enough?” James says and pretends to be insulted. 

Q laughs. Whatever bothered him the other day he’s clearly over it. Perhaps his “game night” helped. 

“Not for a man like Zorin, I’m afraid” Q says. “I doubt he courts all his investors like this.”

“Maybe he’s lonely” James suggests. “He doesn’t seem to have anyone, friends or family. He pays his girlfriend.”

“He could be, but he’s a psychopath. A narcissist. I don’t know if he’s capable of feeling lonely, or of wanting love or intimacy.”

“He’s human” James says and wonders why he feels the need to defend his enemy. But Zorin didn’t seem incapable of intimacy last night. Actually he couldn’t seem to get enough of it. Neither could James. He wishes he could go back to that yacht right now and do the whole night again.  

“Maybe he wants a hold on you” Q goes on. “Perhaps he assumes that you won’t be able to resist his charms and now he’s got you in his pocket. That would be typical narcissist.”

“It would, but it didn’t feel that way. He seemed… vulnerable.”

Q looks at him funny.

“You might be forced to kill him if we can’t bring him in” he says. “Can you do that now?”

“Oh I’ll kill him if I have to. Don’t you worry.” 

Q gives him a long thoughtful look that James finds annoying. 

“I don’t think it’s just sex for Zorin” Q says. “He’s too smart. He wants something.”

James shrugs.

“We’ll see” he says. 

 

After breakfast they go back to James’s hotel room and after a thorough sweep for bugs Q sets up a meeting with M through his computer. She listens without a word while James tells her about Zorin’s plans. Her only reaction is a raised eyebrow when he gets to the destruction of Silicon Valley. 

“That’s even worse than we thought” M says. “We’re going to need you to go in deeper. We need to know more. Who he’s working with, where the money comes from and where it goes. If his operation is as big as he claims, who knows what else he’s up to? And how has he managed to plan it and bribe all these people and we didn’t know?”

“Very well, ma’am” James says. 

Q gives him an angry look. 

“If I may” he interrupts. “I think it’s too dangerous to continue under this cover. We should get another agent in.”

“There will be back-up for the arrest” M says. “But we need to know more. So far he hasn’t done anything but make crazy plans and pay some bribes. Illegal, yes, but he’s not a British citizen so we can’t touch him unless there’s more.”

“007 is getting too close to him. Get another agent in” Q insists.

“Bond, is there something I should know?” M says. “Is your cover at risk?”

“I don’t believe it is” James says and gives Q a warning look. “Zorin likes me. Q believes that puts me at risk.”

“I would assume it keeps you safe. At least for now? Or is there a risk you become too attached?”

“Of course not” James scoffs. “Zorin’s a maniac. I’ll hang around him until we get what we need. Then I’ll bring him in.”

“Alive, please” M says. “Only shoot him as a last resort.”

“Of course.”

“Good. You have your orders. Agent Q, you assist him in any way necessary. That will be all. Oh, and James…”

He feels a hint of concern that she’s using his first name. That is never good.

“Be careful” she says. “Undercover work is dangerous, and Q is right in that there is a risk. Wether your subject is a maniac or not, there is always a risk of becoming attached if you spend enough time together. It’s well known, and part of your training. Don’t forget. Pull out if you need to.”

“I know the routine” James says. 

 

Zorin’s seminar is supposed to be held at a hotel downtown, along with several other meetings and seminars for the annual technology conference, but the day before James gets a message from the company organizing it (not Zorin himself) that the venue has changed. It is to be at a ski resort in the mountains, and all attendees will be taken there in a helicopter. He’s given directions to a nearby private airfield and which time to be there the same afternoon. He passes the information on to Q, who very reluctantly agrees to go to the resort as back-up. 

“I don’t know what you think I can do there that I can’t just as well do here” he complains. 

“Be an agent. Be ready for trouble. Something’s off about this. Why change the venue so late?”

“Maybe he’s just paranoid.”

“Let’s hope so. And wear something suitable. Blend in.”

“Suitable?”

James sighs. A quick lesson in expensive ski resort fashion later he hangs up and starts packing his things. It’s early afternoon and he feels restless and worried. He can’t assume that Zorin is to be trusted. What he’d like most is to spend the night in lustful bliss in the arms of Sandie, or why not Q - anyone but Zorin - but the best thing he can do is simply to stay under cover and go on that helicopter.

 

The helicopter trip is uneventful. He shares it with a handful of other businessmen and -women from the look of them. All of them glare suspiciously at each other and don’t say anything. James has to fight the urge to laugh. When he reaches the resort it’s early evening but still daylight and there are plenty of skiers on the slopes. James gets his room key from a receptionists and goes to install himself in his room  before looking around some more. In the room is a small bottle of whiskey and a note from Zorin. “Busy tonight but I’ll see you tomorrow. This is a nice place, enjoy it. /Max”. James looks at the informal note and the name. Surely he doesn’t treat all his business associates like this? 

James has a quick drink - the whiskey is very very good - and then goes out to explore. The place is fairly small, meant for an exclusive clientele rather than the masses. The hotel is at the bottom of the slopes and offers various health programmes and spa treatments, putting on an air of health facility rather than a simple hotel for skiers. James thinks about Q being somewhere around here in his strange sweaters, and laughs to himself. 

He snoops around for a while, finds the conference rooms and looks for exits and cameras and any hints of increased security. He flirts with one of the housekeepers and discreetly questions her about the meetings next day to see if she’s heard anything. All she knows is that there’s a new booking that came on suddenly, something about businessmen, but that everything is already set up and ready. After that he goes to the reception and claims to be a part of event security and asking about the meeting. He finds out that Zorin is bringing his own security and that all the hotel is doing is provide the rooms and food.

He decides he might as well check the surroundings while he’s here, so he rents skis and buys a lift pass and heads out. The best way to get around unnoticed at a ski resort is, after all, on a pair of skis and he’s always enjoyed skiing. He goes down the slopes a few times and looks around while he goes back up in the lift. Then he stupidly decides to try the off piste area, because they offer a better look at the back of the hotel and because it’s fun, and then he nearly gets shot in the head. 

He hears the bullet pass his head and smash into a nearby tree. He ducks and starts to swerve back and forth to make himself a harder target to hit. Another bullet misses him, this time further away. He looks over his shoulder and sees two men on skis. They have guns, but otherwise they look like men on skis normally look. No menacing black clothes or masks. James is carrying his gun in his shoulder holster, but to try and shoot behind his back while skiing would be insane, so he decides to try and escape. He takes a sharp right turn and heads down a steep slope. Nobody’s been here since the last snowfall, and the snow is untouched, It’s beautiful and he would have enjoyed it immensely if he didn’t have to run for his life. As it is now he can’t afford to be careful and stop to think where he’s going, where there might be trees or boulders or too-steep drops to avoid, he just has to throw himself down the slope and hope he’s a better skier than his pursuers. 

Another shot goes off and he almost loses his balance. He flails his arms, drops one of his skipoles and considers going back for it but he’s going too fast. He manages to regain his balance and goes off a cliff. His stomach feels like it’s turning inside out while he falls through the air and then lands with a muffled jolt in the snow below. For a moment he stands still on his skis, stuck in the untouched snow, while his mind catches up and realizes he’s not hurt. Then he pushes with his only pole and sets off down the slope again. His pursuers are on their way around the cliff rather than over it and he’s gotten a bit further ahead of them. He needs to get his speed up again and win more ground. He suddenly remembers the watch Q gave him that shoots laser, but he will need a clear line of sight and the use of both hands to operate it. There’s not enough time. 

He heads into a grove of trees near the slope. It’s dangerous, but his gamble pays off when one of the men crashes quite spectacularly into a tree. James only sees it out of the corner of his eye when he sets out from the trees again and down a steep slope. He’s still set on outrunning his pursuer, but then an opportunity presents itself. He goes down a narrow channel between rocks and then around an outcropping of big as a house, and realizes his pursuer will have no choice but to take the same route. He stops behind the outcropping, takes his skis off as quickly as he can and when the man following him flies past James whacks him in the head with his ski. The man goes down in a flurry of snow. James runs up to him, struggling in the deep snow, and punches him in the face just as he’s trying to get up. He waits, and when the man moves he punches him again. Drops of blood spatter the snow as something breaks in the man’s mouth. James quickly looks around to make sure no one is watching, and then draws his gun. 

“Who are you?” he says and aims the gun at the man’s bloody face. “Why were you trying to shoot me?”

“Fuck you” the man mumbles and spits out blood. 

He has an American accent, which doesn’t say much. James tries to decide what to do. He has to know who’s after him, but torture isn’t his strong side. The best thing would be to bring the man in and have him questioned by another agent. The alternative is to kill him right here and make it look like an accident. He decides to be honest and say it like it is. Sometimes that works. 

“You tried to kill me” he says. “I have two options. Kill you right here, or take you in and let my people torture you until you tell us why.”

The man looks at him, frowns, then looks shocked. 

“Oh my god” he says and sits up. I recognize you. “You’re James Bond?”

“Yes.” No point denying it now. “Are you one of Zorin’s people?”

The man laughs and sprays more blood on the snow. Some of it drips down his chin and he wipes it off with his glove. 

“No, I’m CIA! We thought  _ you  _ were one of Zorin’s people!”

“What? Why?”

“You’ve been seen together. Apparently you’re close. We thought you were a close associate and decided to take you down to make Zorin more vulnerable.”

“I’m under cover, you bloody idiots. I hope you haven’t ruined it now!”

“No, no” the man says and tries to get to his feet. James helps him up. “It will help your cover. Tell him you were shot at by the CIA, it will make you more credible.”

“Maybe you’re right. I’m sorry I punched you.”

The man grins, which is a frightening sight. 

“I’m sorry I shot at you. I should probably go see if my colleague survived his crash up there. Unless you want your people to torture me… “

“No need now” James says and grins at him. “I’m going to go ahead down and report to Zorin. You should talk to M, join us instead of working against us. We want Zorin stopped too.”

“Do you know what he’s planning?” the CIA man asks. “We haven’t been able to get a man inside. He’s too suspicious.”

“Talk to M” James repeats and puts his skis back on. 

“How did you manage to get close to him?”

James laughs. 

“I’m a really good fuck” he says and then heads down the rest of the slope towards the hotel. 

 

When he comes back to the hotel the adrenalin has left his body and he’s tired and sore. There’s a message waiting for him but all it says is that Zorin called for him. He could use a drink, half an hour in the sauna and a good night’s sleep, but he goes straight to Zorin’s room and knocks on the door. One of Zorin’s goons answers it and lets him in without a word. Zorin is sitting in the sofa with a computer on his lap.  

“Where were you?” he asks. “I called, I want you to join me for dinner.”

“I was out skiing. And nearly got killed! This guy tried to shoot me in the off piste area! Did you know this would happen?”

He manages to make the question sound like an accusation. Zorin stares at him, mouth open. Then he puts the computer down on the coffee table and walks up to James. 

“Are you all right?” he asks and looks concerned. 

“Yes. I was lucky. This guy was shooting at me but he missed. He crashed into a tree. I think there might have been another one but I didn’t see him when I came down. Maybe I was lucky and managed to shake him off. Who were they?”

He tries to sound traumatized, his voice shaking, like he imagines he would if he were a businessman and not a professional spy. Zorin looks like he wants to put his hands on James’s shoulders or hug him, but does neither. 

“I’m sorry” he says and sounds angry. “I don’t know. CIA perhaps. I knew they were on my tail, but I didn’t know they would go after you.”

“It’s all right” James says but allows his voice to sound just as tired and drained as he feels. “But I could use a drink. And maybe we can take that dinner here instead of in the restaurant?”

“Of course” Zorin says. “Of course. Do you want a shower? A change of clothes?”

Now he does touch James, gently stroking his arm. 

“You’re wet” he says. “Are you sure you’re not hurt?”

“I’m sure. A shower would be great. I’ll go back to my room and…”

“Nonsense” Zorin interrupts. “You can shower here, I’ll send a man for some clothes. When you’re ready, dinner will be waiting.”

James finds himself feeling touched. Zorin doesn’t seem used to looking after other people; but he’s a man of action and does it with cool and detached efficiency. No eye contact or unnecessary affection, just clear orders. Before James has a chance to object, one of Zorin’s men is already on his way to his room and the others have stepped outside to give him privacy. 

“Thank you” he says. “I appreciate this.”

Zorin looks at him and then looks away. 

“The shower is over here” he says and gestures. “Do you mind if I order for you?”

“Not at all. Thank you.”

“Stay with me and I’ll keep you safe” Zorin says and looks at him with a serious, almost pained expression. James looks back, careful not to disturb the gravity of the moment. 

“Thank you” he says again and then heads for the shower. 

  
  
  



	6. Chapter 6

James wakes up in the morning light and finds himself still in Zorin’s bed. Zorin is asleep, his blond hair hanging down in his face. James likes it that way, unlike the strict back-comb he prefers in public. He stirs when James sits up, and then opens his eyes. James meets his eyes, drowsy and calm, and thinks for a moment about what it is that makes some people psychotic and others not. No one could tell that this man wants to drown a city, he looks so vulnerable and strangely pure right here and now. James smiles and dismisses his thoughts as ridiculous - he’s a spy, not a philosopher. Zorin smiles back. 

“Good morning” he says. 

“Good morning. Are you ready for your big day?”

“I will be” Zorin says and smiles wider. 

He looks happy, excited. James feels disgusted as well as attracted to him, which in turn makes him disgusted with himself. He can’t wait for this mission to end. For a moment an image of a possible future flicks by inside his mind - him by Zorin’s side, the silicon valley project a success, both unbelievably rich, living together in bliss. It could happen. Zorin has already welcomed him inside the inner circle. It would be so easy. Leave the service, leave all honest living behind, as if he hasn’t already. No more risking his life on these crazy missions without so much as a thank you, taking orders from M. He could live on a yacht or a ranch or in a mansion somewhere, retire early or do something for Zorin as well as being his lover. It could be a good life. He almost laughs at himself and feels just as fleeting a moment of bitterness as he pulls himself away from that line of thought. 

 

Breakfast arrives and they eat in companionable silence, reading the papers. Afterwards they shave - the suite has two bathrooms - and get dressed. Zorin looks impeccable as always, and now he’s put his emotional armor back on. His face is cool and hard and guarded, and it’s impossible to imagine the vulnerability he shows in bed unless you’ve seen it for yourself. 

“I’ve got some last minute arrangements” he says. “I’ll see you later for the meeting?”

“Of course” James says. “I look forward to it.”

Zorin smiles, a rare crack in his armor. They kiss quickly. Then he puts his face back together, straightens his back and leaves the room. James considers his options, tries to push away the mess in his head, and goes to see Q. 

 

“I really wish you’d wear a wire” Q says and looks at Bond. Bond looks annoyed. 

“I can’t. What if he finds it?”

“He trusts you” Q says. “Maybe he even loves you, as far as he’s capable. Why would he suspect you of wearing a wire?”

“Because he’s nuts!” Bond snaps. “He’s planning to drown Silicon Valley, the man is completely bonkers and he might trust me but I sure don’t trust him!”

Q nods and lets the subject drop, but he wonders why Bond is in such a foul mood. Nerves before the big meeting? Or because of his relationship with Zorin? He spent the whole night with Zorin, doing God knows what. Q hates thinking about it, it scares him, but he can’t stop picturing Bond and Zorin in each other’s arms. They are both undoubtedly attractive and Q feels a certain excitement at the thought, as well as a vague jealousy and a much more distinct worry for Bond’s safety. They have to get what they need so they can bring Zorin down and get out. 

 

The meeting is agonizing. Q spends it hanging around the hotel trying not to rouse the suspicion of the vast amounts of security people Zorin has brought. He sits in the bar wearing ski clothes and arranged helmet hair and pretends to have a drink after a morning of skiing. After a while he goes to his room, changes into the outfit Bond decided was classy enough for daytime wear (not evening, heaven forbid) and sits in the lobby with his laptop pretending to do Important Work but playing games while anxiously watching the corridor to the meeting room. He has to work hard to repress the urge to listen in on the meeting. He has a bag full of gadgets in his room that he could feed through the ventilation or listen through the walls with, but Bond is right. Zorin is too smart, too careful and too good with technology. If Q is exposed it could hurt Bond’s cover and get them both killed. 

So he waits. 

After about an hour he hears raised voices and sees the door to the conference room open. A woman comes out, escorted by a guard. She looks upset, even outraged. When the door is closed behind her she tries to brush off the guard. 

“All right, all right” she says. “You can let go now. I’ll be on my way.”

“Zorin ordered me to get you a drink, so that’s what I’ll do” the guard mutters. 

“I don’t want a drink, I want to get away from this nuthouse. Zorin is nothing to me.”

But the guard ignores her and starts to lead her through the corridor, but not towards the bar. Q hesitates, and then shoves his computer in his bag and follows. He thinks for a moment that he’s lost them, but then he sees them walk past the gym and relax departments and finally out a back door. He can’t see the woman’s face, but her tense body makes it plain she’s either scared or angry. The guard keeps a steady grip on her arm. 

Outside the back door is a small open space surrounded by dumpsters for the housekeeping and kitchen garbage, a small loading dock for goods and a few parked cars. Q sneaks out behind the woman and the guard, assuming they are going somewhere outside, but they stop and he has to hide behind a car. He tries to keep out of sight and only moves a little until he gets a clear line of sight via one of the car mirrors. Everything happens very quickly. The guard takes a gun out from under his coat. It’s equipped with a silencer and but Q is surprised by how loud the noise still is when the guard shoots the woman in the head. Q feels his insides turn to aching ice. All he can do is hold his breath and stare at the gun in the guard’s hand, hoping that he won’t turn to him next. Is he visible here behind the car? Can the guard see him in the mirror? He tries to pull back and crouch on the ground, make himself as small as he can, praying that the guard won’t see him. He hears the sound of one of the dumpsters being opened and then a muffled thud. Then steps in the snow, the sound of the door, and silence. Q waits, trying not to hyperventilate, trying not to cry but the tears come anyway. 

What he told Bond is true. He’s a desk agent, a computer hacker. He works his magic on a keyboard, not with guns and thugs and murder. He doesn’t know where to go or what to do now. Part of him wants to run to Bond for some kind of comfort or safety, while another part realizes that safety lies as far away from Bond as possible. How do field agents do this? What’s wrong with them? 

Finally - he doesn’t know how long it’s been, but he’s cold and stiff - he gets up from behind the car. His knees are shaking and he badly needs to pee. He looks around for the woman, but she’s nowhere to be seen and he realizes with a shock of anxiety that he has to check the dumpster. He has to report back what happened. He wipes his cheeks and nose, realizes his sleeve isn’t enough and digs through his bag for tissues. He finds one and tries to clean himself up and put himself back together. He slowly walks up to the dumpster on shaking legs while trying to keep an eye on the door in case the guard comes out again. Every sound makes him jump and he feels sick with fear. He slowly eases the hatch on the dumpster open and sees her lying there, unseeing eyes staring at nothing and her hair messy with blood. It’s nearly enough to make him throw up, but he manages to close the hatch again and back away. 

The back door is unlocked and he slips inside and hurries to the relax department where there’s a bathroom. He locks himself in there, pees and then looks at himself in the mirror. He looks awful; pale with large terrified eyes, red from crying. He just stands there, petrified, for a moment and wants to cry again. Maybe go to his room and hide under the bed. But he takes a deep breath and washes his face off with hot water, then cold. He steals a towel and dries himself off. Tries to run his fingers through his hair but it does little good.

He has to get back to the lobby and see if he can find out how the meeting is going, and if Bond is alright. He’s angry at himself for panicking like that and wasting precious time. If something has happened to Bond, how will he justify hiding behind a car for God knows how long? On the other hand, he told Bond he was no field agent, and still here he is! He’s angry about that too. 

The door to the conference room is open when he walks past, and people are leaving. Some are looking upset, others thoughtful, still others excited and happy. He looks for Bond but doesn’t see him and almost panics because he can’t stop and look thoroughly without looking suspicious. He has to go on towards the lobby, but then he hears Bond’s voice and some of the tension drains out of him. He turns to look and Bond is standing with a few other men and Zorin in the corridor. They’re talking and laughing. Q moves towards the lobby, keeping an eye on Bond. He has to make contact, let him know they have to meet so he can tell him what just happened. Finally Bond throws a glance his way, Q gives him what he hopes is a “we must talk” look and Bond nods almost invisibly. Q goes back to his room and waits. 

“I’m going with Zorin, we’re taking the helicopter to look at the area” Bond says when he enters and closes the door behind him. He sounds calm but then he sees Q:s face. “My God, what happened?”

Q has rehearsed what to say. He will tell him calmly, straight to the point, what he’s seen, and let Bond do whatever Bond does while Q reports to M. 

“They took a woman out of the conference room”  he starts but his voice sounds shrill and unsteady. 

“Yes” Bond says. “She didn’t like what she heard. She didn’t want a part of it, so Zorin let her leave.”

Q shakes his head. 

“No” he says and feels nauseous. “They killed her.”

“What?”

“They took her out the back…” his voice breaks and he starts to cry. There’s nothing he can do about it. “...and shot her in the head and threw her in the dumpster. I saw it!” He hears himself shouting and forces himself to stop. 

Bond looks shocked for a moment, then walks up to him with two long, efficient steps. He puts his arms around Q and Q doesn’t want to be consoled by someone like him but someone has to and Bond is the only one there. Q gives in and leans into the embrace, his whole body feels too exhausted and weak to hold itself up.

“I’m sorry you had to see that” Bond mumbles and gently caresses his hair. “Come, sit down.”

They move to the sofa with Bond’s arm still around Q:s shoulders. Q hesitates, then leans on him again and Bond moves his other arm around him to resume the embrace. They sit like that for a little while in silence. 

“Have you seen anyone die before?” Bond asks gently. 

Q shakes his head. 

“I see. It’s hard.”

Q wants to say something about how Bond has killed people himself, that has to be harder. Or is it? But he can’t quite stop crying yet and he doesn’t trust his voice to be able to deliver. 

“Did you hear them say anything?” Bond asks. 

Q takes a long shaking breath, tries to steady his voice. Bond gets up and comes back with a glass of something strongly alcoholic. 

“Here” he says and sits down again. 

“I’d rather have a cup of tea” Q says but sips the drink and takes another deep breath. He finds he can stop crying finally, but he still feels faint and shaky. Hollow.

“I’ll make you some tea, but I should be off soon. Zorin will be waiting, he’s just expecting me to pack my things and meet him at the helicopter.”

He gets up again and takes the boiler from the little tray on the desk and fills it in the bathroom. Q has some more of his drink, shudders from the taste but feels a little better. 

“They didn’t say much” he says. “The guard said Zorin wanted him to get her a drink, but they walked towards the back instead of the bar. He was holding her arm but she didn’t try to get loose. She said she wanted to leave, that she wasn’t interested in Zorin.”

“That was all?”

Q nods. 

“That was all” he says. “He took her out the back door, shot her with a gun with a silencer and then hid her in the dumpster and went back inside. Like it was nothing, like she was just trash..”

His voice threatens to break again and he stops, sips his drink and wipes tears off his cheek. Now that the worst shock is fading, he’s embarrassed about behaving like this in front of Bond. Bond who is behaving like this is business as usual. Just another workday.

Bond finishes the tea, brings it over to the sofa and sits down. Q drinks it gratefully though it’s still too hot. 

“I’m sorry I’m such a mess” he says miserably. 

“Not at all” Bond says, and his voice is soft. His eyes are too when he looks at Q, which is unusual. That blue icy stare is replaced with something much warmer. Pity? “You did well. This is important information. Can you report to M?”

“Yes, of course. Are you sure you should be going with Zorin?”

Bond nods, then hesitates. 

“I think you should put a wire on me” he says at last. “If I can record him talking about his plans or take pictures of it or something, we can finish this sooner. We can’t wait for him to kill more people, we have to get him now.”

“Yes. Of course. I have just the thing.”

He puts the cup down on the table next to the sofa but when he turns to get up he finds himself facing Bond again and they sit there looking at each other for a few long seconds. Then Q kisses him on the mouth, just like that. As if there was nothing else he could do. And Bond kisses him back, puts his arms around him and suddenly it’s more than a kiss, it’s making out, hot and intense and really sexy, and then it’s not that anymore either. It’s foreplay. Q knows it and he wants it. How can he want to have sex now? He just watched someone die, and the man he wants to sleep with has killed people too. Perhaps some kind of psychological reaction to the shock or being close to death? Who cares anyway? 

They start to pull at each other’s clothes, awkwardly wriggling out of sweaters and shirts and unbuttoning trousers. Q runs his hands over Bond’s body, amazed by how big and strong he is. Q:s previous partners have been more like himself; ordinary people with ordinary bodies. How much time do you need to spend training to be like Bond? Then he remembers how Bond only yesterday was chased by skiers trying to kill him but he outran them and survived. Of course being well trained would be essential to survive in this job. He feels scar tissue now and then under his fingers, and his arousal is mixed with, and heightened by, hints of fear and a strong sense of being impressed. 

When they’re finally naked Bond lifts Q up without a word and puts him down on the bed. Q wonders if he does that with girls, and if they like it. Then there’s no time to think because Bond is all over him. Hands, lips and tongue doing things he doesn’t even know what it is but it feels heavenly and Q suddenly realizes that Bond’s reputation for being a casanova is no exaggeration. He really, really knows what he’s doing. Q does not, no more than most people do at least, but there’s no time to worry about that now. Bond has taken the lead and all Q can do is enjoy it. So he does. 

  
  



	7. Chapter 7

The helicopter travels high over Silicon Valley. It’s a beautiful day, warm and sunny. James looks down at the sprawling buildings below them and the shadow of the helicopter moving across them. He looks at Zorin, sitting across from him. Zorin is looking out the window and he’s smiling. 

 

James is too aware of the wire taped to the inside of his shirt and the camera in his top shirt button. They’re placed specifically to let him undress without being caught wearing them - thank you Q - and he can’t help wondering how common it is to have a sexual relationship with the person you’re surveilling. Probably more common than he would think. People are strange. He tries to forget that Q is now hearing and seeing everything he is, and looks out the window again. Act naturally. Right now he’s a businessman looking over his investments with someone he’s also sleeping with. That’s all. 

 

They fly over the valley and then back to San Francisco where they land on top of a building where they’re scheduled for lunch. When they sit down at their table everybody seems excited except for one of the businessmen who is quiet and looking uncomfortable. James glances at Zorin but can’t tell if he’s noticed. He thinks about the woman who was killed. If this is someone who also wants to drop out he will meet the same fate. James tries to think quickly - is there something he can do, and how? 

 

He’s lucky and the man excuses himself after the main course and heads for the restrooms. James waits, glances at Zorin, chats a bit with the woman sitting on his other side, and then gets up and excuses himself. The man is in the restroom and is just about to take out his phone when James walks up to him. He looks scared and puts the phone back in his pocket. 

“Having second thoughts?” James murmurs in case someone is listening.

“What?”

“About the project. Do you want to drop out?”

The man stares at him, seems to be thinking, and then nods. 

“Leave” James says. “Right now. Go out and turn right, down the stairs to the next floor. Then the elevator across the hall down to the basement.”

“What?”

“You get one chance to get away. He’ll kill you if you pull out.”

The man looks confused for another second or two, and then he understands. His eyes go bigger and his face pale. 

“Thank you” he says and leaves the bathroom. 

James stays for a moment longer, then washes his hands and goes back to the table. He can’t see the poor man anyway, and there are no signs of pursuit. 

“Did you see Mr Wallace in there?” Zorin asks. 

“Who?”

“He was in the meeting, and the helicopter. Oldish man, thin hair, dark suit. Was he in the bathroom?”

“Oh, I don’t know. I didn’t see him. Maybe he was in one of the stalls. Why?”

“Nothing” Zorin says and shrugs, smiling at the man sitting opposite to him and is listening to their conversation. “I just want to make sure everyone is alright.”

 

Two minutes later Zorin asks one of his goons posted around the restaurant to go look for Mr Wallace. As far as James knows they’re still looking when the rest of the company get ready to move on to the next location. 

 

They take another helicopter trip to look at strategically placed mines and oil wells around the valley that will be used to trigger the earthquake and flood. The remaining participants look entirely on board with the idea, talking excitedly amongst themselves. It’s mid-afternoon when they are finally dropped off back in San Francisco. They all - James included - have signed non-disclosure agreements before even stepping on the helicopter in the first place. Zorin looks pleased when he chats and says his goodbyes. He avoids James’s eyes, but when James makes a motion to leave Zorin stops him. 

“Come with me” he says. “I have something more to show you.”

“Sure.”

James sits back down in the helicopter, and soon they take off again. They fly in silence and James tries not to worry. He can’t read Zorin well enough to know if anything is wrong. And if it is, Q will see and hear everything. He’ll get help. James is unarmed but he is wearing the laser shooting watch as a precaution. 

 

They land on a gravel parking lot outside a building that looks as if it’s seen better days. It is built against the mountainside and the tattered look of it is highlighted by a brand new “Zorin industries” sign on the front. 

“What is this place?” James asks as the helicopter shuts down and the noise dies. 

“The head mine” Zorin says. “This is the heart of the operation. Come.”

Zorin leads the way and James follows. Only two of the goons follow behind them as they enter the mine through the building. The interior looks just as worn down and neglected as the outside except it’s been cleaned recently and in the control room there is new equipment set up alongside the old one. Zorin gives him the guided tour, but he looks tired now, his voice flat and his eyes dull. There’s none of the sales talk he did on the helicopter tour, only a statement of facts. James pretends interest, looking around and checking equipment with the air of aloof curiosity. He catches Zorin smiling at him once, but for most of the time he looks serious and thoughtful. 

“Let’s go down into the mine” he says finally. “It’s.. romantic. You stay here” he adds to the goons. “I’ll call if I need you.”

“Yes sir.”

Zorin takes a battery powered lamp out of a cupboard and leads James through a corridor and into an elevator. James follows with a rising sense that something’s wrong. He can’t tell for sure, but he feels it. His cover has been blown, and he should get out right away. But if he does the goons will shoot him and that will be that. He has to play along and hope there’s an opening. Perhaps he can talk Zorin over, or seduce him. 

 

The elevator opens into a long corridor with stone walls. No more office building, this is a proper mine. They walk for a bit in the damp silence, the light from Zorin’s lamp bouncing on the walls. Then they emerge in a large room or cavern, half full of explosives. For all Zorin’s talk about blowing up faults and triggering earthquakes, it’s different to see it like this. There’s a sharp smell in the air. 

“Wow” James says. “This is impressive.”

“Isn’t it”

Zorin hangs the lamp from a hook on the wall and then walks up to James. He kisses him, long and hard, and then lets go but continues to stand very close. He looks into James’s eyes and James feels intoxicated and aroused by the kiss and the intensity of his eyes, the smell of him. 

“Did you help Mr Wallace escape?” Zorin asks in a very calm voice.

James realizes at once that there’s no point in lying. Zorin knows, he just wants confirmation. 

“Yes. I thought you would kill him.”

“I would have.”

“Why?”

“I can’t have anyone go around babbling about my plans. The investors, the ones who are convinced they will make a lot of money from this, they won’t talk. It will ruin their investment. But the cowards who get cold feet and want out…”

“I see.”

They’re still standing close enough to kiss. Zorin starts to take James’s jacket off, looks through it and then starts to unbutton his shirt. 

“No gun?” he murmurs.

It doesn’t take him long to find the wire carefully taped to the inside of the shirt. He holds it up with a sad look. He looks at James again. 

“Who are you spying for?” he asks. 

“MI6.”

“Really?” Zorin sounds surprised. “I thought you were an industrial spy. What’s your real name?”

“Bond. James Bond.”

“Oh” Zorin says and sounds almost disappointed. “I thought you would give me an ID number or something and refuse to cooperate.”

“That’s military. Besides, a bit late for all that, isn’t it?”

“I guess so.”

“Would you be less disappointed if I take a cyanide pill?”

A spark of interest flashes in Zorin’s eyes. 

“Do you have one?”

“No, sorry. You’ll have to kill me yourself.”

James shrugs and smiles. Zorin smiles back but there’s no warmth or humor in it. Whatever they had together is over. Or so James thinks, but then Zorin kisses him again, hard and intense. 

“I could have loved you” he says, his voice sounding unsteady. He runs his hands through James’s hair and over his naked torso. “I almost did. And you… “

He breathes heavily and when he looks at James his face is full of despair. He looks like he is about to cry, but pulls himself together, the grief carefullly replaced by cold control. 

“It was good while it lasted?” James says. 

Zorin looks at him with surprise and then nods.

“It was” he agrees. “Too bad I have to kill you.”

“Do you really have to?”

“Yes, of course. Not only are you a spy, you betrayed me. And now I have to move forward my plans so I can get it all done before MI6 swoops in and tries to take me. I assume this thing has recorded everything I’ve said?”

James nods. Zorin looks angry, disgusted. James waits to see what mood will win. Anger, hurt feelings, or cold efficiency? You never know with this man, and he changes so fast. 

“Fine” he says, throws the wire on the floor and stomps on it. It breaks into a little mess of plastic and metal. “I’ll blow it all up tonight, starting right here. With you locked in this room.”

“For what it’s worth, I did contemplate going with you” James says. “Leaving the service and living with you instead. That’s rare. Meeting someone that… You make me feel something, despite being a murderous psychopath.”

Zorin looks at him with naked surprise and then laughs. 

“That is worth something” he says. “I’m glad you weren’t just using me, murderous psychopath and all.”

“And the sex…” James says. “It was something…”

They look at each other for what feels like a long time.  Then James slowly and carefully kisses him again and runs his fingers through his hair. This is his chance to escape. He should give Zorin a couple of punches now that he’s distracted, knock him unconscious, tie him up and then go out and take out the goons. Then Q and the back-up can move in and take over. But he loses himself in the kiss, and the intoxicating arousal, and then the moment is over. Zorin backs away and now he’s holding a gun. He takes a small walkie talkie from his pocket. 

“All right, come on in.”

It only takes seconds and then the goons step inside, grab James and tie him up. It happens so quickly and he realizes he has missed his chance. Wasted it on a kiss that will cost him his life. How stupid can you get? Zorin works for a while setting up a detonator with a remote control and then leaves the room without a word. The goons check the ropes again to make sure they’re tight, and then they leave too and lock the door behind them. At least they leave the lamp. 

 


	8. Chapter 8

He spends the first few minutes beating himself up for his monumental stupidity. If he didn’t let his cock and his feelings run away with him he would have Zorin in prison by now. Instead here he is locked in a cave that’s about to blow up and kill not only him but God knows how many people in Silicon Valley. The plan to wait until the holidays to spare as many lives as possible has obviously been abandoned, and that is James’s fault too. 

He looks around and tries to push the mortifying embarrassment aside so he can think clearly. He is wearing the laser-shooting watch Q gave him, but he needs to aim it carefully or he will blow up the place himself. Aiming with your hands tied behind your back is more or less impossible. Even finding the button to fire it without looking is hard enough. If the surveillance equipment worked as planned Q knows what has happened, but will he get here in time? Zorin will need time to set up the other bombs and then go up in his helicopter to watch the detonations. How long do they have? 

His hands are tied behind his back and his feet are tied together around the ankles. He struggles with the ropes for a while, but Zorin’s goons knew what they were doing and all he gets for his trouble is scrapes and bruises where the ropes chafe and cut into his skin. He considers breaking or dislocating his thumb, but those are painful, desperate measures that will leave him partly incapacitated and he will only use them as a last resort. 

He rests for a moment and then scoots over to the nearest wall and uses it for support to push himself to his feet. As long as he can keep his balance he can move around the room with small jumps. He feels like an idiot when he jumps across the floor, slowly and carefully to avoid falling on his face, and feels relieved that no one can see him now. Especially Q. The thought makes him grin and the embarrassment eases a bit when his sense of humor returns. He jumps across the room to see if he can find anything useful. Zorin left in a hurry so he might have left tools or other things.

The room has been used as a gathering point connecting different parts of the mine. There are several doors and along one wall, opposite to the one where Zorin left the bomb, are a few battered metal cabinets, once painted blue but now faded and rusty. James jumps over to them, goes a bit too fast and stumbles on the uneven floor. He tries to maintain his balance but falls into one of the cabinets with a loud crash. He almost manages to regain his balance, but without the use of his hands he can’t push himself upright again before he starts to slip against the metal door and lands in a most undignified heap on the floor. He swears and kicks in anger, but it only makes the ropes dig in deeper, and he stops. Up again. He sits up this time, with his back against the cabinet so he can try to pry the door open with his fingers. The rusty door doesn’t want to give in, and it takes forever but finally there’s movement and he can pull the door open a few inches. He moves to get a better grip and pushes it open a bit more before he turns around to look inside. There are a few old mining overalls, dusty and smelling of mold. A plastic helmet that hasn’t been used in decades. That’s all.

James takes a deep breath to fight off the disappointment and then moves on to the next one. This one takes even longer to open, but is more rewarding. On the bottom of the cabinet is nothing, but there’s a shelf and he drags himself to his feet to look at it. The shelf holds rusty old tools; a few screwdrivers, a hammer and a knife in a dirty leather sheath. James feels a jolt of elation. If he can only get hold of the knife he can try and cut the ropes.

He can’t lift his arms but the shelf isn’t welded to the cabinet. It rests on two narrow ledges and should come loose and fall down if he can hit it hard enough. Without the use of his arms or legs all he has is his head, so he uses that. The urge to laugh comes over him when he sticks his head in the cabinet, under the shelf, and thinks that at least he’s using his head for something. He jerks upwards as hard as he can. It hurts, the urge to laugh fades, and he can feel the edge of the shelf scrape the back of his head, but she shelf comes at least partially loose, and the tools fall off and scramble to the floor. He has a knife! 

He lies down on his stomach and cuts the rope tying his feet together. It takes a little while since the knife is old and not very sharp, but he manages and it’s a relief to be able to move his legs freely again. Now if he can do the same with his hands without cutting his wrists open.. He glances at the bomb and feels a hint of panic. This is taking too long. He sits up, moves the knife carefully around in his hands to try and find a good position, tries to feel where the rope is and where he can cut with the least risk of hurting himself, and then gently goes to work. Slowly, patiently, he has to have perfect control of the knife. He doesn’t, of course, and cuts himself several times, but the cuts are small and shallow. No danger, but it does bleed and as he works he can feel his hands getting slippery. He has to hold on harder to the handle of the knife to avoid dropping it. Finally it slips out of his hand. He swears and fumbles around for it but can’t find it. He turns around to look, but when he moves the rope around his hand, apparently cut deep enough, snaps. The relief is enormous. He moves around and takes several deep breaths, relishing in his freedom and shaking off the fear and the claustrophobia. 

His hands aren’t too badly cut and he decides not to do anything about them now. He has to get out and stop Zorin. The door they came in through is locked. He checks the others, leaving bloody handprints on them and wondering what the crime scene unit will make of that later. It looks like a bizarre kind of signature and he laughs softly to himself. To his surprise one of the doors isn’t just open but almost falls off its hinges when he pulls at it. It’s rusted nearly through. He looks inside and finds a dark corridor leading deeper into the mine. If Zorin didn’t bother with it, it probably doesn’t lead anywhere. But it’s all he’s got, unless he wants to try and blow up the entrance with his watch. It could work, or he could set off the room full of explosives. He grabs the lamp off its hook on the wall and heads into the tunnel. 

It feels like he’s running through the tunnel for hours, and he has plenty of time to beat himself up again for getting into this mess in the first place. If the other bombs go off the responsibility for all the resulting deaths is on him. You can’t think like that, he tells himself. Collateral damage is part of the job. But it’s not that easy. The tunnel meets other tunnels several times and he has to stop and decide which way to go. Sometimes there are signs pointing in one direction or the other, and once he even finds one pointing towards an emergency exit. He follows it but the tunnel seems to go on for another very long distance until it finally starts to slope upwards. He is running as fast as he can now and crashes into the door that suddenly bars his way. The impact sends the door flying open and he’s temporarily blinded as he stumbles out into the sunlight and drops the lamp on the ground. It breaks with a crashing sound of broken glass. He tries to recover his balance but falls down on one knee, scraping it in the process. 

He looks around to try and find out where he is. He’s looking out over the side of the mountain with a flat gravelled area just outside the door, big enough to fit a couple of cars, and a dirt road leading down the mountain from what must be an emergency exit. Only a hundred meters or so away, down the road, is a bigger entrance than the one he’s standing in, with a small paved parking lot outside. Two service vans are parked outside, and James sees his chance. He runs down the road, slows down a few times to make sure no one is there, and then runs up to one of the vans. It’s locked. He checks the other one. It’s open, but the keys aren’t in. Of course he wouldn’t be that lucky. He gets in and works as fast as he can to hotwire the car. If he can get to the helicopter pad before Zorin takes off he can stop the detonation and Zorin in one go. He wishes he could relate this to Q somehow and ask him to meet him there, but he’ll just have to hope that Q is smart enough to figure out where to go. And if not, James is on his own, not for the first time. 

He gets the van going and turns it around on the small parking lot, bumping into the other van in the process. A man steps out of the entrance to the mine, that looks like a service entrance in contrast to the major entrance on the other side of the mountain. He stops in the door and looks shocked. Then he drops the toolcase he’s carrying, shouts something and runs to the other van. James has a head start and drives down the road as fast as he can. The van isn’t exactly a sports car and the engine whines when he pushes it to go faster. The van swerves back and forth, threatening to lose contact with the dirt road, it’s center of gravity too high for such speeds. He forces himself to slow down rather than tip the stupid thing over, and thinks with longing about his Aston Martin. It would have been out of here in seconds. Instead, the second van is coming closer as they turn onto another road hopefully leading in the direction of the airfield and Zorin’s helicopter. 

The road winds through mountain outliers. It could be beautiful if they weren’t going so fast. James swears over the weak engine he’s forced to work with and pushes it as hard as he dares. He takes a corner too fast and the van teeters on two wheels before regaining its balance and shooting out onto the next straight. He looks in the rearview mirror and sees the other van still behind him. Are they Zorin’s people? It seems unlikely that a maintenance man would take such risks to pursue a stolen van. Still, best to shake them off whoever they are. James waits until he’s on a long straight stretch of road and suddenly slows down. The van skids a bit but finds its grip again and the pursuer, surprised by the change in speed, has to drive up on his left side to avoid a collision. James steers hard left and then swerves to keep his van on the road while the other one goes off and bounces away across the uneven ground flanking the road. It tips over, slides a bit and then remains still. James steps on the gas. 

 

When he skids into the airfield he can see the helicopter, and tries to squeeze even more speed out of the rattling van. It sounds like the engine is ready to burst, but it holds together long enough. For a moment he wonders what to do now. There is a car parked next to the helicopter and Zorin’s people are getting ready for trouble when they hear the van approach. He can’t see Zorin anywhere, he might be inside the helicopter. Someone shoots from behind the car, the bullet hits the side of the van. James is about to slow down but instead steps on the accelerator and turns towards the car. One of Zorin’s men runs away from the car just before the van slams into it. The impact makes James feel like he’s being crushed by the seat belt, but when the van finally stops he finds he’s mostly unharmed and able to get out of the car. He gets out, crouches next to the van and tries to see if anyone else wants to shoot at him. 

There’s a shot from behind a shed nearby, and without a second thought James turns his watch towards it and fires. The shed explodes with a muffled “boom” and the someone who was hiding there screams. James runs towards the helicopter, that is just about to take off. It’s two feet above the ground when he reaches it, and he tries to jump on, misses but before he can fall flat on his face he manages to grab the supports just below the door and hang on as the helicopter lifts high enough to carry him off the ground. A moment of panic at yet another stupid and incredibly dangerous decision, and then he’s too busy hanging on for his life to question his choices. He drags himself up so he can rest on his elbows on the support rail, and now he can see Zorin inside the helicopter. He’s alone inside, except for the pilot. He looks at James with a strange look on his face and James smiles. To his surprise, Zorin smiles back. Then he opens the door and kicks James in the face. 

James loses his grip and almost falls, but manages to hold on with one hand. Zorin makes a move to kick him again, and James uses his other hand to grab onto his foot. He yanks as hard as he can without losing his grip, and Zorin is pulled off balance and almost falls out of the helicopter. He holds onto the door frame at the last moment and starts to pull himself back inside, but James is stronger and heavier and pulls himself up until they’re both struggling with each other in the doorway. It’s a strange feeling to wrestle to the death with someone you’ve slept with. James can smell Zorin’s body and his face is almost close enough to kiss. He thinks he would much rather do that than wrestle on a helicopter, but there isn’t much time to think about kissing. Even though he has the upper hand when it comes to size and skill in fighting, there are no guarantees. The helicopter is high up now and all it takes is one little mistake and he will fall out and die. He punches Zorin in the face, which is more satisfying than it should be. He can feel teeth and flesh give way. He pulls his fist back for another punch, but Zorin ducks and his hand hits the metal wall of the helicopter. 

Zorin tries to push him, but manages to push himself inside the helicopter instead. He falls to the floor and James follows. For a moment Zorin seems to have forgotten about their struggle and is trying to get to the seat, and when James looks to see what he’s doing he can see a small black leather case sitting on the seat. It has to be the remote detonator. Shit. 

James throws himself over Zorin and they struggle and wrestle on the floor. James manages to land another punch, splashing blood on himself from Zorin’s broken face, and Zorin coughs and tries to squirm away. James punches him in the stomach and starts to believe the fight is nearly won when Zorin manages to bend both legs and give James a fierce double kick that almost sends him flying out the open door. Zorin scrambles for the detonator while James tries to hold on and get back inside the helicopter again. Zorin sees him out of the corner of his eye and turns away from the detonator to give him another kick. This time James is ready, grabs his leg and pulls as hard as he can. Zorin loses his balance and tumbles out the door. Another quick shove from James sends him past the doorway with no time to hold on to anything, and he falls. James watches him with a strange feeling of regret. Then he sits down on the seat and opens the case for the detonator. He glances at the pilot, who is looking at him with frightened eyes but makes no move to do anything other than fly the helicopter. 

“Put this thing down!” James yells. The pilot nods and obediently starts to take the helicopter back down to the airfield. 

The detonator is easy to disarm. It has a battery hatch at the bottom, and James takes the battery out and throws it out the door. Then he leans back with a strange feeling of anticlimax. That was that. It’s all over. He jumps when he hears a voice in a megaphone. 

“You are surrounded by police and CIA. Please land the aircraft safely, turn it off and come out with your hands over your head.”

He looks outside. The airfield is suddenly full of police cars and black government cars. The reinforcements are here, James thinks and feels a bitter sadness fill him up. Too bloody late as usual. 


	9. Chapter 9

There’s a flurry of activity around him but James feels still and empty when he walks from the helicopter. A policeman waves a gun at him and he holds his hands in the air. 

“MI6” he says. “Bond. James Bond.”

“I’ll need to see some ID, sir.”

“Really?” James says and feels all his tension start to rise to the surface.”You think a secret agent carries around ID with his true identity? Is this your first job?”

The policeman looks insecure. Another man, in a black suit - probably CIA - runs up to them.

“It’s fine, Hugh, I’ve got this. I know who he is.”

The policeman steps back. The CIA man looks vaguely familiar but James can’t place him. They all look the same with their black suits and their important faces. 

“Mr Bond” the CIA man says. “If you’ll come with me, please..”

James starts to walk with him across the tarmac but stops to look at a couple of police officers zipping up a black body bag on a stretcher just a stone’s throw from where the helicopter has landed. They lift it and carry it away to a waiting ambulance. There’s an unexpected air of respect about their movements and James feels vaguely grateful. 

“That was a hell of a job you did up there” the CIA man says and nods to the sky. “Too bad he didn’t live to be interrogated, but at least he won’t be hurting anyone else. 

James doesn’t answer. He still can’t quite feel that Zorin was evil. Crazy, perhaps, and infinitely selfish, but not all bad. He can’t stop looking at the stretcher and the body bag until it has disappeared completely into the car. 

”Are you hurt, sir?” the CIA man asks. 

James looks at him. The CIA man looks back at him, a look of concern on his face. 

“Are you hurt?” he asks again. 

“No” James says and it feels like his words come from somewhere far away. Like everything is far away, except perhaps Zorin’s body in his black bag. “No, I’m fine.”

“Are you sure? There’s some blood…” he gestures vaguely at James’s face and James realizes it must be Zorin’s blood. Or his own. Who cares? He looks at his hands, covered in a mix of fresh and dried blood. 

“If you’d like to come with me, we’ll just get you a quick check-up” the CIA man says.

Bloody Americans, James thinks and feels his temper slipping away from him. He’s had it with everything just now and he’s about to answer something, God knows what, when he sees Q run towards him. 

“MI6” Q says and waves his ID card to the American agent. “I got this, thank you.”

The CIA man hesitates and looks at Q:s ID. 

“We’re going to need a briefing” he says. “And he’s pretty beat up…”

“I said I got his, I’ll get him looked at. And we report to M, you’ll get your briefing from her” Q says with a tone of authority James didn’t know he possessed. It’s impressive, and sexy. 

The CIA man looks upset. 

“We need to know what happened in that chopper!”

“What happened was that my agent took the target down with no civilian casualties and now he deserves some rest. You’ll get your debriefing when we see fit to give you one.”

The American agent opens his mouth to protest, meets Q:s eyes and shuts it again. He finally gives a curt nod, mutters something about “M” and “Stupid brits and their ridiculous code names” and then he walks away. 

Q looks at James. 

“Are you all right?”

James doesn’t know what to say. He feels drained and sore. His stomach hurts from the crash with the van, but it’s just bruised muscles. Nothing to bother with now. And he doesn’t want anyone else to ask if he is all right, to poke and prod at him. 

“Get me out of here” he says. 

“Yes, of course. Whatever you want. But are you sure you don’t need medical help?”

“I’m sure. I just need…” He doesn’t know. He looks for words but comes up empty. Q looks at him and nods. 

“Come on, then.”

They go back to the car Q arrived in.

“ _ Your _ agent?” James asks after they’ve driven out onto the road and left the air field behind them. 

Q looks at him. 

“What?”

“You called me ‘my agent’. I outrank you, quite significantly.”

Q looks annoyed. 

“Really? You’re going to pull rank?”

“No, no, no. Just curious.”

“Well, I am the local agent stationed here. If we’re going by the book, which I assume you’re not, I represent the MI6 here and handle all contact with the locals. So in a way I’m responsible for you while you’re here.”

James grins, and Q looks even more annoyed, but in a way it’s nice to have someone else be responsible. Just for now, James is done with calling the shots. 

“Fine” he says and looks out the window.

They drive in silence for a while past the dry northern Californian landscape. The sun is going down and it’s pretty in a toned down kind of way. James looks out the window and tries not to think about Zorin, what he looked like while they were fighting, and how he looked earlier while they were kissing. How his face looked like when they had sex and he reached his climax. And now he’s in a body bag on his way to some top-secret CIA morgue. Will they do an autopsy? Find out what made him tick? Or just toss him in a crematorium? James has never stopped to think about what happens with the bad guys after they’re killed. Is there a funeral? Even a homicidal psychopath must have family and friends somewhere in the world who will miss and mourn him. He wonders if Sadie will be sad. Then he thinks about how Zorin looked when he smiled, and a lump of pain grows in his chest. He takes a deep breath and tries to make it go away. The end of a mission isn’t supposed to feel this way. It’s supposed to be exhaustion, sure, a feeling of needing to withdraw and lick his wounds, rest and recover, but not...grief. It’s wrong and he doesn’t want it. 

“Do you want to go back to the hotel?” Q asks. 

“No.”

“Are you hungry?”

“No. Yes… I don’t know. I want to get out of this city.”

He looks at Q when a solution suddenly presents itself.    
“Let’s go to Jamaica!”

Q stares at him for a second and then has to look back to the road.

“What?” he says. 

“Jamaica. It’s beautiful. I’ll show you the best hotel in the world, sitting just above the most amazing little beach. The food there is to die for.”

“I can’t go to Jamaica!”

“Why not? Haven’t we deserved a holiday?”

“Well, I guess so, but... “

“I can call a friend, get us a private flight. Come on, it will just be a few days.”

“But…”

“But what?”

Suddenly he  _ has  _ to go to Jamaica. Right now. It’s the only thing that can make this feel better, but Q has to go too. 

“Live a little” he teases.”So what if you miss your board games or whatever it is you do. Let’s go to Jamaica, watch the sunset over the ocean, eat like kings and have lots of sex. Don’t tell me you don’t want to.”

Q doesn’t say anything but a blush spreads over his face in a most telling manner. James laughs and takes his phone out. 

“I’ll get that flight sorted. Pack light, we’ll be leaving right away.”

 

The phone rings. James opens his eyes. The morning sun is sifting through the curtains and he can hear birdsong outside and the soft swell of waves. He’s lying on his back in the big double bed and he’s feeling rested and completely relaxed. He ignores the phone and looks at Q, still sleeping next to him. The sheet barely covers his hips and his chest is bare. James thinks back to last night when his hands and tongue were all over that beautiful body. It was just as good as he hoped it would be. He leans closer, smells Q:s hair and then relaxes back into the mattress again. He feels himself drift off. 

The phone wakes him again. This time he gets up and checks his pockets. It’s M. He has several missed calls from her, and a text. “Bond! Where are you?” He smiles, sits down on the bed and texts back: “On holiday. See you next week.” He knows she can find him if she wants to. She hasn’t tried, except for the phone calls, which means there’s no emergency. Just protocol. They can do protocol when he gets back. She can yell at him for going AWOL and then praise him for a job well done, ask if he needs to talk about Zorin - which he will refuse -  before handing him his next mission. But for now he’s going to turn off his phone and order room service and then wake up his lover in the best way he knows: kisses and caresses that will have him moaning before he’s even quite awake. 

He knows what to do and gets right to it. 

  
  
  



End file.
